


They Tell Me This Is Progress

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: Angel Adrift [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Darcy is Michael, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3742168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is still grappling with a lot of things, okay? (These things may or may not include an impending alien invasion.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (My usual Supernatural canon rule applies: no canon used after season 5 unless otherwise indicated.)
> 
> Also, SPOILERS IN THE COMMENTS. So do not read other people's comments unless you want to be spoilered for a major plot point!

**Chapter One**

Michael received a lot of prayers during the course of the day. Most of them she screened from her awareness, but this one was different.

_‘Dear St Michael the archangel, please get your butt down here so we can talk.’_

It took only a moment to fly from where Michael was admiring some knick-knacks in a shop window, and to land in Eloise’s room.

“What’s up, young padawan?” Michael said in greeting.

“Well, for starters, you weren’t answering your phone,” said Eloise, looking unimpressed at Michael’s trick of appearing out of nowhere once her initial startled look faded. “But we need to talk.”

“About what?” Michael asked.

“About your little round the world trip,” responded Eloise. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing the photos on Facebook, but Mom and Dad are freaking out wondering where you got the money for travelling all over the place.”

“I did say on Facebook that I’m an archangel and that I can teleport,” Michael pointed out, and didn’t bother to duck the pillow Eloise threw her way. It hit her in the face and fell to the floor.

“Right, like anyone was going to believe that,” Eloise scoffed. “Come on, Darce, you have to talk to them.”

Michael really didn’t want to explain, and for a moment the desire to just fly away without doing so warred with the sense of responsibility that was ingrained, even now. Her sense of responsibility won out, and Michael sighed. Her sister was right.

“This is going to suck,” she predicted. “Are Mom and Dad home?”

“It’s a Saturday.”

“So that’s a yes,” Michael guessed.

“Just go downstairs and explain,” said Eloise.

“You’re right,” said Michael, steeling herself. She took a deep breath, and opened the door to Eloise’s room, walking down the hallway and down the stairs. Eloise followed behind her, no doubt out of curiosity at what was going to happen next.

Michael’s human parents were both in the living room, her Dad reading the paper, her Mom reading some kind of action-hero novel, to judge by the cover.

“Hey, guys,” said Michael.

The effect was instantaneous. Both her parents heads snapped up, and her Mom exclaimed, “ _Darcy!_ ”

Michael found herself engulfed in a hug, and patted her Mom on the back gently. She was let go after a minute, only to be pulled straight into another hug by her Dad.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” said Michael, and then realised what she’d said.

Michael might be an archangel again, but she’d spoken the complete truth – she did love her human family, for all their frailties. They might be short-lived, fragile, flawed – but Michael loved them fiercely, all the same.

The thought was faintly terrifying.

“Where have you _been?_ ” Michael’s Mom exclaimed, and then caught sight of the look on Michael’s face. “Darcy?”

Michael tried to rearrange her features into a casual expression.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she said.

“This should be good,” Eloise muttered under her breath, too low for anyone but Michael to hear.

“Darcy, what have you done?” her Dad asked, a look of dread on his face.

“I haven’t _done_ anything,” said Michael, a little indignantly. “It’s just…”

“What is it?” her Mom asked anxiously, looking worried.

“You know that post I made on Facebook, about being an archangel?” Michael asked.

Her parents frowned in confusion and gave slow nods, never taking their eyes off Michael.

Michael spread her wings, and the lights overhead flickered as two great, wing-shaped shadows covered the wall behind her.

“Not a joke,” Michael said quietly.

Her Dad broke the silence.

“How…?” he murmured, staring at the wing shadows on the wall. “How are you doing this?”

“I have wings,” said Michael, as calmly as possible, even thought her stomach was tying itself in knots. “You can’t see them, because they’re intangible, at least in these dimensions, but they’re there.” She flapped her wings slightly for emphasis, and her shadow did the same.

“Honey,” said Michael’s Mom, “I don’t know what this is really about, but–”

“Mom, she’s an archangel,” Eloise butted in, looking exasperated. “She can fly and teleport and who knows what else, because. She. Is. An. _Angel_.”

Michael’s Mom shook her head, looking overwhelmed. Her Dad, meanwhile, wore an expression reminiscent of a stunned fish.

“This can’t be true,” said Michael’s Mom. “This is some kind of trick, some kind of joke.”

“No joke,” said Michael softly. “I was made human to teach me a lesson. I stayed human for twenty-three years, and then my powers and memories of being an archangel were returned to me. This is really real, Mom.”

There was a long silence.

“So you’re really an angel,” said her Dad finally. Michael nodded. Her Dad looked stunned all over again.

But Michael’s Mom was shaking her head, a look of denial on her face.

“Mom–”

“No, I don’t believe it–”

“ _Mom!_ ” Michael shouted, and her Mom fell silent. “Believe me. Don’t believe me. It doesn’t matter. This is who I am, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She turned to her Dad. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I swear, I’m not kidding, or lying.”

“Darcy…” Her Mom spoke carefully. “I think you need to see a doctor.”

Michael rolled her eyes, and snapped her fingers. A moment later the four of them were standing on the moon, inside a bubble of artificial atmosphere.

“What – where –” Her Mom was looking around wildly.

“We’re on the moon,” said Michael matter-of-factly. “I brought us here. I can do stuff like this now, because I’m an archangel.”

“Cool,” said Eloise. She gave a small jump, and hung in the air for a moment before descending in slow-motion. “ _Uber_ -cool.”

Michael’s Mom just looked shaken and lost.

“Darcy, I think you should take us back,” said her Dad, staring down at the Earth far below, and looking a little green.

So Michael snapped her fingers, and they were back in the living room.

Michael’s Mom immediately sank down into the nearest chair like her legs couldn’t support her another moment.

“Aww,” complained Eloise. “That was fun. You’re taking me to the moon again sometime.”

“Maybe,” Michael told her. “No promises.”

“I… I think I need to lie down,” Michael’s Mom said faintly. Her hands were gripping the arms of her chair, hard.

“Right,” said Michael. “Sure. I’ll leave you guys to adjust. I know this is a big deal.”

Unexpectedly her Dad began to laugh, a little hysterically.

“A big deal, she says,” he said, through the laughter. “Damn straight it’s a big deal, honey.” He went off into guffaws.

“Well, I’ll just… go,” said Michael. Before she could fly away, though, Eloise latched onto her arm.

“Take me with you!” she begged. “I want to see Paris!”

Michael disentangled their arms.

“Another time, okay?” she said unsteadily, and took flight.

When Michael landed, she was standing by an enormous tree. Michael wasted no time in climbing into the lower branches, and sitting so that her back was against the trunk of the tree. The tree gave off a feeling of warmth and gentle power, deeply familiar, which Michael couldn’t help but find comforting.

“So, that was… unpleasant,” she said, running her hands through her hair. She settled a little more comfortably against the tree trunk. “Aaaand I’m feeling overly emotional again.”

There wasn’t any response from Gabriel’s Grace, of course – it was nothing but inert energy, missing Gabriel’s consciousness. But Michael found that talking to it made her feel better, when she was feeling at her most lost and alone.

Michael closed her eyes, feeling Gabriel’s Grace thrumming inside the tree.

Her parent’s reaction shouldn’t have surprised her, or upset her, but it had, all the same. The part of her that was still Darcy had kind of expected her parents to just accept her as she now was, despite how incredible her story was. Instead her Dad had been stunned, and her Mom had reacted with outright denial, and their reactions… hurt.

It was yet another reminder that Michael wasn’t the aloof, uncaring archangel anymore.

Not that she ever had been, really. Oh, she’d withdrawn from the other angels, put up a façade of cold indifference that was only half-feigned… but deep down, she’d still cared. She’d just been so devastated by Lucifer’s betrayal and then her Father’s abandonment that nothing else seemed to matter: nothing but trying to keep going, to stick to her Father’s plan so that maybe one day her Father would come back, and maybe, just maybe, they could all be a proper family again. Michael had turned a blind eye to the behaviour of Raphael and his enforcers, telling herself that it was all for a good cause.

But was it? Michael thought of angels like Anael and little Castiel, who had been brutalised by the re-education squad in the name of harmony among the Host, and wondered if maybe she’d gone about things all the wrong way. Darcy had read books like 1984, books about oppression and abuse by the state, and looking back now, they reminded Michael uncannily of Heaven, as it had become after her Father left. Michael had allowed a lot of bad things to be done in the name of peace, but it hadn’t really been peace at all – just a lack of open disagreement, from angels who were too afraid to put one toe out of line lest they be punished.

Gabriel had fled Heaven, and at the time Michael hadn’t known why, but now she thought she had a pretty good idea. Gabriel had always been warm and friendly by angelic standards, and what had happened – with Lucifer, with their Father, to Heaven – must have broken their heart as surely as it had broken hers.

No wonder Gabriel had left.

“I messed up pretty badly, huh?” Michael said morosely to the tree beneath her. “I owe you a pretty big apology, when you get your Grace back.”

Still, there was nothing she could do about it now – nothing except keep a protective eye over the tree containing Gabriel’s Grace, and make sure that nothing unfortunate happened to it.

It was, after everything, the least she could do for her brother.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was the tearing of space and time that caught Michael’s attention.

She hadn’t seen spacetime tear in months, not since Thor had gone home via the Bifrost. But there it was, a tear in spacetime, and one that was distinctly different from the Bifrost’s tear pattern.

Michael was curious enough to follow the tear to its source. She found herself standing in an enormous room underground somewhere, with unfamiliar scientific equipment set up throughout the room. The scientific equipment was throwing off sparks, and there was smoke clouding the air. Several bodies lay scattered around in between the scientific equipment. The room itself was shaking.

Michael looked up to see that overhead, glowing brightly, was a an interspatial portal in the process of collapsing. As she watched, pieces of equipment tore themselves free of their mountings and flew up towards the portal, vanishing in an arc of light.

“Oh _shit_ ,” she said, and took flight just as the portal went critical. For a moment Michael hung suspended, the force of the portal sucking at her vessel: then she gave a mighty beat of her wings, and reappeared a couple of miles away.

She found herself standing on the edge of an enormous crater, as the base collapsed in on itself, consumed by the portal. There was one last flicker of light, and then the portal was gone. The tear in spacetime slowly began to heal itself.

“So. That happened,” Michael said aloud, feeling a little shaken in spite of herself. Angels generally avoided messing with portals, for good reason, and she wasn’t entirely sure what would have happened if she’d been caught in the backlash of the portal’s collapse. Probably she would have been fine… but that was a big probably.

Michael stretched out her senses, to encompass the totality of the crater. She found several life signs, buried beneath the rubble, and snapped her fingers.

Several humans abruptly appeared in front of her. A couple of them seemed unhurt, merely startled, raising their weapons and aiming them at Michael. They all wore SHIELD insignia on their tactical suits. Michael swiped a couple of fingers in their direction, and the guns vanished. Michael paid them no more attention, too busy looking at the prone figures lying in front of her. Some of them were clearly dead. Others, however, were still alive, but badly injured. Michael took a deep breath, and healed them.

There were several simultaneous gasps from the newly-healed men and women, and Michael nodded at them.

“You’re welcome,” she said dryly. “SHIELD, right? What the hell were you guys _doing_ here?”

“Who are you?” demanded one of the agents. Michael sighed, and shook her head.

“Never mind. Tell Coulson Michael says hi,” she said, and then reconsidered. “Actually, no, I’ll tell him myself.”

Michael left the SHIELD agents where they stood, and flew down into the crater to better examine what _had_ been a base. She took her time, analysing the remaining energy traces.

What she found worried her. Whatever had caused the portal to form had been a source of energy unlike anything Michael had ever seen before, and Michael had seen a lot. Michael didn’t know what the hell SHIELD had been doing, down in their base, but chances were it had been incredibly dangerous. What was worse was that the source of energy that had triggered the portal was missing. Someone had it, whether SHIELD or another interested party, and Michael sincerely doubted their ability to use it safely.

Michael thought about what she’d discovered, for a while. Then she went in search of Coulson.

He turned out to be in New York, and Michael didn’t bother to see where she was landing before she narrowed in on him, appearing only a few feet away from him.

“Hey, Agent iPod-Thief,” she said sternly. “You want to tell me why there was a gaping tear in spacetime in the middle of one of your bases?”

“Holy _shit!_ ” yelped someone who was not Coulson. Michael turned to look at him, and found herself staring at a face she knew only from TV and magazines.

“Tony Stark, right?” She looked around at the penthouse she was standing in, taking in the technology around her and the casual attire of Stark and Ms Potts (another celebrity Michael knew only from the media) and drawing her own conclusions about where she was. “Nice place you have here.”

“Thanks,” said Stark, still looking hilariously startled. Potts looked just as taken-aback by Michael’s sudden appearance. “You want to explain how you just appeared in my Tower?”

“Archangel,” Michael said succinctly, and turned her gaze back to Coulson. She folded her arms, every inch the disapproving archangel. “Coulson, I asked you a question.”

“Michael,” said Coulson, and while he aimed for the bland smile he’d used the last time Michael had seen him, it came out a little strained. “I heard that you were hanging around the base. What were you doing there?”

“I sensed a tear in spacetime, I went to check it out,” said Darcy, arms still folded. “Colour me surprised when I turn up just in time to see an interspatial portal collapse in the middle of one of your bases.”

“A what?” Stark interrupted. “Did you say ‘interspatial portal?’”

“I did,” Michael confirmed. “And I want to know what SHIELD’s been messing around with.”

“That’s classified,” said Coulson. But the source of the portal was at the top of his thoughts, as was the fact that it had been stolen, and Michael easily skimmed information about the Tesseract off the top of his mind.

“The Tesseract,” she said thoughtfully, absorbing what she’d just learned. Coulson stiffened, and his jaw tightened a little. If what Coulson knew was correct, then this was very bad indeed. “You people don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“And I suppose you do?” Coulson asked, his gaze direct.

“Better than you do,” Michael replied. “I’m a multidimensional waveform of celestial intent, currently housed inside a human form. I understand things like this in ways you couldn’t possibly hope to.”

“Then you won’t mind advising us about–” Coulson began, but Stark was interrupting.

“Wait, hold up, ‘a multidimensional waveform of celestial intent?’ I speak science, and I don’t even know what that means. Secondly, what’s a Tesseract? Tony Stark, by the way, but you already knew that.”

“The archangel Michael,” Michael introduced herself.

“You know, don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of imagined the archangel Michael as a bit less… feminine,” said Tony. “Are those boobs standard issue?”

“ _Tony_ ,” said Potts, sounding mortified and reprimanding.

For a moment, Michael didn’t know whether to smite him, or laugh. Laughter won out.

“Every vessel is different,” Michael said. “You’re not very respectful, are you?”

“Colour me an unbeliever,” said Tony, “but just because some teleporting woman who knows Coulson’s secrets – I’m very envious, by the way –”

“It’s all in the file,” said Coulson.

“–claims to be an archangel, doesn’t mean she is one,” Tony finished.

“As I was saying,” said Coulson to Michael, his calm fraying slightly, “SHIELD could use your advice on the Tesseract, if you really know so much about it.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Michael. “Because what you really want is my help to get it back, and then you’ll go back to playing around with it, like the fact that it opened a portal and blew up your base wasn’t enough of a warning.”

“It blew up their base? Sounds exciting,” said Tony, setting up a computer on the nearest desk. He made a hand gesture at the screen, and the room filled with holographic images.

“I’m sorry, but are you really an archangel?” Ms Potts asked, looking a little doubtful.

“Why does everyone doubt me?” Michael exclaimed.

“Well, you don’t exactly embody the traditional image of an archangel,” said Coulson. “You’re young, attractive, female; that’s not exactly intimidating.”

Michael glared at him.

“Just saying,” Coulson added. “Look, whatever your feelings about what we’ve been doing with the Tesseract, whatever Loki has planned for it is no doubt going to be a lot worse. We could use your help stopping him, if nothing else.”

Michael thought about it.

“Fine,” she conceded, because if Loki had even an inkling of what something like the Tesseract could do, then Coulson was right, and he needed to be stopped. Hell, even if he didn’t know how to use the Tesseract, that was almost as dangerous. “But I do this my way.”

“You’re singing my song,” said Tony. “I tried that. I was told that I was volatile, self-obsessed, that I don’t play well with others–”

“You don’t,” said Potts.

“–and that I wasn’t considered ‘suitable.’”

“This isn’t about personality profiles anymore,” said Coulson.

“Is this about the Avengers?” Potts asked. Coulson looked at her.

“Which I know nothing about,” Potts added.

“It’s all in the file,” Coulson said again, glancing at Tony.

Michael wandered over to look at the nearest holographic profile.

“Can I look at this?” she asked, eyes wandering over the other profiles.

“You might as well,” said Coulson. “We’ve run your psych profile. You’re a bit of a rebel, like Stark, but you can be relied on in a crisis. And we could use your powers.”

“You mean Darcy Lewis’ psych profile,” said Michael.

“Does that matter?” asked Coulson.

“Add in a mountain of helplessness, abandonment issues, and a crushing sense of responsibility,” said Michael.

“I’ll mention that to the psychologists,” said Coulson. “I’m sure they’ll be interested.”

“I’ll take the jet back to DC tonight,” said Potts, glancing at the holographic profiles scattered around the room. “You have homework. A lot of homework.”

Tony immediately started to argue with her, but Potts leaned forward to whisper in his ear, and his expression changed to one of shocked delight. He quickly agreed with a smile, and the two of them kissed before Potts walked back over to Coulson.

“Is there any chance you’re going back by LaGuardia?” she asked him.

“I can drop you,” he agreed.

“Fantastic.”

The SHIELD agent and Potts left the room, leaving Michael alone with Tony. He was already busy reading through the holographic profiles, and Michael joined him.

Tony sent her a sideways glance.

“So, you do much besides teleporting?” he asked.

“So much,” said Michael, and picking a holographic profile at random, began to read through it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael won't find out who Gabriel is for a while, guys, just FYI.

**Chapter Three**

Tony stayed up all night, catching up on the information in the file Coulson had given him, as well as doing some extra research of his own. Michael read through the profiles in the file, and then curled up on the couch while Tony was doing the extra reading, pulling her iPod out of her pocket and sticking her earphones in her ears. She put her iPod on shuffle, so that the songs were chosen at random.

The song _Fallen Angel_ by Poison came on, and Michael closed her eyes, listening to it.

_“But you know you got to stick to your guns when it all comes down, ‘cause sometimes you can't choose - It's like heads they win, tails you're gonna lose…”_

Michael sighed, and hit the fast-forward button to move onto the next song. Those lyrics hit a little too close to home. For so long she’d thought that she had to kill Lucifer, or he would destroy everything. Even if she had won their showdown over the fate of the world, she would have had to live with the knowledge that her brother had died at her hand. And if she had failed to win – well, she wouldn’t have lived to see what happened next.

The apocalypse had failed, and Michael hadn’t been forced to kill Lucifer, after all – but on the other hand, here she was, living a lonely life with no direction, no purpose. It was a bit better than the planned outcome, but not by much.

At least this whole thing with Loki and the Tesseract gave her something purposeful to do, no matter how temporary it was.

Michael wondered if her human parents were any closer to accepting who she was, yet.

She opened her eyes, banishing the thought, and looked across at Tony, who was hunched over a tablet, reading.

Tony rubbed a hand across his eyes, and muttered something about needing coffee.

“Hey, angelface,” he said, looking across at Michael. “You want a coffee?”

“Nah, I’m good,” said Michael. “Angels don’t need to sleep.”

“Bitch,” said Tony. “Really? No sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Michael confirmed.

“Right, well, I’m going to go make a cup of coffee or twelve,” said Tony. “You… do whatever.”

“I will do whatever,” Michael said agreeably.

Tony hesitated before leaving, though.

“You know Stark Industries put out a new mp3 player last month right? Hi-def sound and everything.”

“My iPod is fine,” said Michael, closing her eyes again.

Tony said nothing more, presumably leaving to make coffee, and Michael let her thoughts drift away, losing herself in the music.

* * *

About an hour after that, SHIELD sent a helicopter, which landed on a large platform at the top of Stark Tower. Tony didn’t bother to change clothes, merely collecting the Iron Man briefcase and heading out. Michael went with him.

“Mr Stark,” said the agent waiting inside the helicopter. “I’m here to take you and Michael to the helicarrier.”

“Great,” said Tony. “How long’s it going to take?”

“The helicarrier is about forty minutes away,” said the agent.

“Uh-huh, awesome. Hey, wings, wake me when we get there, will you?” Tony said, and settled back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Somehow, he drifted off to sleep almost immediately despite the noise, the Iron Man briefcase at his feet.

“You got a pen?” Michael asked the agent. The agent shook her head.

“It’s cool, I’ve got it,” said Michael, and snapped a permanent marker into existence.

She uncapped it, and gazed at an oblivious Tony.

“Hey,” she asked the agent idly, “what do you draw on a man who already has a goatee?”

The agent didn’t answer, but the thought ‘glasses’ came through loud and clear.

“Good idea,” said Darcy, and carefully drew a pair of spectacles around Tony’s eyes.

When she was done, she settled back into her seat, and spent the rest of the flight in silence.

Forty-two minutes later, the helicopter landed, and Michael nudged Tony. When this did nothing, she tapped two fingers to his forehead.

Tony jerked awake, looking wild-eyed.

“We’re here,” Michael told him.

“Uh-huh,” said Tony. “Hey, how do I look?” he asked the agent. “I didn’t drool over myself or anything in my sleep, did I?”

“Uh…” said the agent.

Fortunately, Tony was already moving to step out of the helicopter, paying no attention to the agent’s response. Michael snickered, and followed after him.

The two of them were met by Coulson, who looked at Tony, then at Michael.

“I see you were bored during your flight,” Coulson said.

“What?” Tony asked.

“Nothing,” said Coulson, never losing his impassive face. Michael winked at him.

Tony and Coulson fell into conversation as they walked, Michael walking behind them as they made their way through the corridors.

Together they walked onto the bridge, Tony still talking to Coulson.

The reactions of the other people in the room were instantaneous. Eyes widened, and several people tried to cover sudden smiles.

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“Okay, what gives?” he demanded. “People kept doing double-takes in the corridor, too.” He turned to Michael, his gaze accusing. “Alright, what did you do?”

Smirking, Michael snapped up a hand mirror, and handed it to him. Tony found himself staring at his reflection, finally seeing the drawn-on glasses Michael had given him.

“Oh, very funny,” he complained, rubbing at the marker lines. They stayed where they were. “This is your maturity level? Really?”

“If we could proceed?” asked a new voice, sounding irritated, and Michael turned, and found herself being stared down by an intimidating dark-skinned man wearing a long black coat and an eyepatch.

“Sure, go ahead,” said Michael.

“I take it you’re Michael. The archangel,” said the guy, and Michael plucked his name and job title from the top of his mind. He looked her over. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Does anyone know how to get rid of permanent marker?” Tony asked, still holding the mirror and trying futilely to get rid of the permanent marker.

Michael snapped her fingers again, and the lines of ink vanished from Tony’s face. He examined his now marker-free reflection.

“I’d say thanks, except that you put it there in the first place,” Tony remarked.

“Like you wouldn’t find it funny if it had been anyone but you,” Michael responded, because Tony struck her as the type.

“That is true,” Tony admitted, with a thoughtful frown. He looked conflicted.

“As I was saying,” said Director Fury reprimandingly, only to be interrupted by an agent.

“We’ve got a hit, sixty-seven percent match,” said the agent. “Wait, cross-matched – seventy-nine percent match.”

“Location?” asked Coulson, walking over.

“Stuttgart, Germany,” said the agent, and gave the address. “He’s not exactly hiding.”

While the agent was talking, Michael was looking around the bridge, and recognised a couple of the people there from the different profiles in the file Coulson had given Tony. One of them was Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, prospective member of the Avengers initiative, and Fury turned to address him.

“Captain, you’re up.”

Steve nodded, his face sober, and left the bridge, presumably to change out of his civilian clothes. The red-headed woman who Michael recognised as agent Natasha Romanov – also a prospective Avenger – followed him out.

“And what about me?” asked Tony. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“You can assist,” said Fury.

“Great,” said Tony, and looked at Michael. “And you?”

Michael shrugged.

“If you guys have trouble, expect me to come swooping in,” she said. “Otherwise, don’t expect me to get involved. I’m only here to make sure no one blows up the planet using the Tesseract.”

“A worthy goal,” said Tony. “Okay. I’ll go suit up.” He left the bridge as well.

Michael found herself being regarded by Fury.

“Coulson tells me that you could be quite the asset,” he said.

“I’m not here to serve you,” said Michael, her back ramrod straight. “Like I said, I’m only here because of the Tesseract.”

“You don’t care that people could use your help?” Fury asked.

Michael eyed him.

“People always need help. It’s a basic fact of human nature,” she said. “I’ll protect the Earth, but the rest of it isn’t my business.”

“Is that so?” said Fury. Michael didn’t look away.

“It is.”

“Hmm,” said Fury, but he let the matter drop.

Michael let her eyes wander over the bridge again, taking in the magnificent view from the windows.

“Sir, we have a live feed,” said an agent, and Fury turned to the nearest screen, where a security feed popped up. It was a little grainy, but the figure in the horned helmet was clearly visible, standing over a group of kneeling people in evening dress.

They couldn’t hear what was being said, but there was an elderly man who was clearly refusing to kneel, much to the horned figure’s ire.

The horned figure raised the spear he was holding, and Michael prepared to fly in there, to put herself between Loki and the old man – but she didn’t need to.

Captain America dropped out of the sky just in time to deflect an energy bolt directed at the old man. He straightened, saying something to Loki, who said something back.

“Sir, Romanov is on the scene,” said an agent. A moment later Loki sent a blast of energy upwards, out of frame, and the next second the fight was on.

Steve Rogers and Loki fought for only a few moments before a blast of energy hit Loki in the chest, and Iron Man was flying into view.

Loki looked between Captain America and Iron Man, and slowly raised his hands. The pair took him into custody, and loaded him onto the fighter plane that landed in the open space of the plaza. At Fury’s order, the security feed was cut.

“That was easy,” Michael commented.

“You think so?” Coulson glanced her way, his eyes alert. Fury looked more sceptical.

“Call it a gut feeling,” said Michael. “Loki should have put up more of a fight than that – he’s from a warrior society, if the myths and Thor are any indication. Even if they aren’t, he came all this way for a reason, and he’s clearly capable of fighting back. So why isn’t he?”

“Maybe he used his head and realised he was outgunned,” said Fury. Michael snorted.

“He’s a pagan god,” she responded. “Trust me; he’s not the one who’s outgunned.”

“You think this is some kind of ploy?” Coulson asked.

“He’s a trickster god,” said Michael dryly. “The chances are pretty good.”

“If this is a trick, we’ll deal with it when he come to it,” said Fury. “Do you have anything else to contribute?” His words came out a little sarcastic.

Michael looked at him, her expression cold.

“You know,” she said, “I tolerated Tony Stark’s disrespect, but that’s because I found him amusing. I’m powerful enough to blast this planet apart. You might want to ruminate on that.”

“Is that a threat?” Fury matched her dangerous tone.

“No. It’s a warning,” said Michael. “Think about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a pagan god to babysit.”

She took flight without another word, anger rushing through her.

She knew that her vessel wasn’t exactly a daunting sight – Coulson’s assessment of young, attractive and female had been spot-on, and Michael knew that she was far from an intimidating spectacle. But she was an archangel, and used to receiving awe and obedience from everyone she met. The fact that people kept dismissing her since she’d gotten her Grace back was galling.

The part of her that was Darcy pointed out that she hadn’t exactly done anything to _earn_ respect and obedience since she’d gotten her Grace back, but Michael was too annoyed to pay any attention.

Instead, she pinpointed Steve and Tony’s location, and narrowed in on them, reappearing aboard the fighter jet that was carrying Loki towards the helicarrier.

Steve jumped, raising his shield reflexively, but Tony only gave her a wave in greeting. Steve was missing his cowl, and Tony had taken the helmet of the Iron Man suit off. A dark-haired man in armour was sitting on a bench in the corner, looking watchful.

“Angelcakes,” Tony said. “You look a little pissed-off right now.”

“Fury,” Michael said in explanation.

“I hear you,” said Tony. “It’s fun annoying him, though. He gets this vein…” and Tony gestured towards his temple.

“You’re irresponsible,” said Steve disapprovingly.

“Is it just me,” said Tony, ignoring Steve, “or did rock of ages over there give up too easily? That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Right,” said Michael. Weirdly, she was finding Tony’s irreverent chatter a little soothing, even though he was no more reverent than Fury was. Somehow, Tony’s lack of respect came across as less of an insult than Fury’s. Maybe because Fury’s was calculated, whereas Tony just as clearly didn’t show respect to _anybody_ , not just Michael. Or maybe it really was as simple as the fact that Michael did find him amusing, and thus was inclined to like him.

He also felt strangely familiar, Michael thought, but put the feeling away to examine later.

“So you’re Loki,” she said to the dark-haired man, who was watching her interactions with the others in a way that suggested he wasn’t missing a single thing.

“I am,” Loki replied. “I’m afraid you have the advantage of me. Barton told me all about the Captain and Mr Stark, but he never mentioned you.”

“Good,” Michael said simply.

There was a sudden crack of lightning and thunder, very close by, and the others jumped. Romanov asked from the cockpit, “Where is this coming from?”

Loki looked suddenly apprehensive.

“What’s the matter?” Steve goaded him lightly. “Scared of a little lightning?”

Loki looked at him.

“I’m not overly fond of what follows,” he said, and Michael understood.

“Thor,” she said in realisation, and turned to face the rear end of the plane, where the door was.

The plane rocked suddenly, and both Steve and Tony scrambled to put their cowl and helmet back on. Tony hit a button, and the plane doors opened.

“Wait, don’t–” Michael started, but the next moment a caped figure was landing inside the plane. Without pausing he strode towards Loki.

Tony raised a hand, repulsors firing up, but Thor simply knocked him flying with Mjolnir, and continued striding forward. He grabbed Loki by the throat, and turned to leap out of the plane.

Michael deliberately grabbed hold of Thor’s cape and yanked. Thor turned, his expression thunderous.

Michael gave him her best unimpressed look.

“Hello, Thor.”

“Michael?” Thor’s expression lightened a little, although he looked confused.

“You know this guy?” Steve demanded.

“What, no one briefed you?” Michael asked. “This is Thor, Loki’s brother.”

“Why is he here?” Tony wanted to know, getting to his feet, the wheeze in his voice faintly audible even through the suit. Michael sent him a concerned look, before glancing back at Thor.

“Good question,” she said.

“I am here to take Loki back to Asgard, to stand trial for his crimes,” said Thor.

“No,” said Michael. “Not yet, you’re not. Let him go.”

“I will not,” said Thor.

“I’d really rather stay here,” Loki managed, around the hand on his throat.

“Shut up!” Thor snapped at him. “We will have words, you and I, but now is not the time.” He looked back at Michael. “Loki comes with me.”

Michael was so done with all of this. Instead of answering, she punched Thor in the face.

Thor reeled backwards, letting go of Loki in the process. Loki edged away from the open doors.

Thor straightened, his face incredulous and furious.

“You –” he began.

“Punched you,” Michael agreed. “Are you willing to listen to reason, or are you going to act like a petulant child?”

With a growl Thor threw himself at her.

“I think he’s going for petulant child,” Tony postulated.

Michael kicked Thor in the chest, hard, and Thor went skidding backwards and fell out of the plane.

“Is he…” Steve started.

“As long as he doesn’t let go of the hammer, he’s fine,” said Michael dismissively. She turned to Tony, and rapped on the top of his helmet. “Open up for a second.”

Tony opened his faceplate.

“What–” he started, but Michael tapped his forehead.

Tony gasped.

“What did you do?” Steve snapped, instantly on his guard.

“She just healed my ribs,” said Tony, “I think.” His expression was astonished. As Michael watched, his expression turned to one of alarm. She spun around just in time to catch Thor’s fist.

“Oh, that is _it_ ,” Michael said darkly, and snapped her fingers.

Everyone stared. Even Loki looked dumbfounded.

“What have you done to me?” Thor piped up, his adorable little face full of horror as he looked at his tiny, chubby hands, which matched the rest of his little child form. He looked maybe five, at the most.

“If you’re going to act like a child…” Michael shrugged. “If you ever want me to change you back, sit down and shut up.”

Sulkily Thor climbed up onto the bench, got caught up in his tiny cape, and almost fell off again. Surprisingly, it was Loki who picked him up and dumped him upright on the bench.

“There, you oaf,” said Loki. He didn’t bother to hide his expression of mirth.

Tony looked at Michael with new respect.

“You can do so much besides teleporting, you said?”

“So much,” Michael agreed, taking a seat next to Thor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poll: Should Loki be a good guy, or a bad guy in this fic? ETA: So far people seem to be saying they want him to be a good guy, so I'm going with that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so Loki isn't good, as such... but he's not entirely bad, either...

**Chapter Four**

As soon as they reached the helicarrier Loki was escorted away by a large group of SHIELD agents.

Michael and the others were directed to a conference area on the bridge, where the nearest screen showed video feed of Loki standing inside a large glass cell. The conversation between Fury and Loki was quite audible.

“You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can’t hope to control, you talk about peace and you kill because it’s fun,” said Fury, staring Loki in the eye. “You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.”

“Ooh,” said Loki, drawing out the sound, “it burns you to have come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, _unlimited_ power, and for what? A warm light for all mankind to share. And then to be reminded what real power is.”

Loki said nothing more. After a moment Fury said, “Well, let me know if real power wants a magazine, or something.” He strode out of the room, leaving Loki alone in his cell.

The room on the bridge was tense.

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” said the man Michael knew to be Dr Bruce Banner, with black humour.

“Loki’s going to drag this out,” said Steve. “So… Thor, what’s his play?”

Thor was standing in a contemplative pose, made ridiculous by the fact that he still appeared to be about five years old.

“He has an army,” Thor said in his piping voice, “called the Chitauri. They are not of Asgard, nor of any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.”

“An army, from outer space,” said Steve dubiously, and looked around like he was wondering if anyone else thought this sounded crazy.

“If he wants a war, he’ll get one,” said Michael grimly. As Commander of the Heavenly Host, she understood the art of war. Her biggest concern was that if she was forced to use her more destructive powers, the collateral damage could be huge. “But I’m not so sure he does.”

“How do you figure?” asked Romanov – Natasha.

“Thor, how much do you know about magic?” Michael asked, instead of answering. Thor frowned.

“Very little, compared to Loki or my parents,” he said. “Why?”

“Because Loki’s crawling with it, and most of it isn’t his,” said Michael. “But it matches the magic of that spear he was wielding pretty much exactly.”

There was a short silence.

“Are you saying that Loki might be under some kind of control? Like the agents he took with him?” Natasha asked.

“I think so,” said Michael.

“Even if that’s true, I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki,” said Bruce. “I mean, he must be building another portal – that’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.”

Michael winced at the reminder that Erik was one of those who had been taken by Loki. She hadn’t known him that well – he’d only been in Puente Antiguo a few days when she regained her Grace – but he was a good man, and he looked out for Jane when there was no one else to do so.

“Erik?” Thor looked to Michael for confirmation that it was the same Erik they both knew.

“Yeah, he was working with the Tesseract, Loki abducted him,” Michael confirmed. “He’s being controlled by magic, the same as the other SHIELD people Loki took.”

“I am sorry to hear such a thing,” Thor said gravely.

“What I want to know,” said Bruce, “is what they need the iridium for.”

“It’s a stabilising agent,” said Tony. “Means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD. Also means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants.” He pointed suddenly. “That man is playing Galaga. Thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did.” He covered one eye with his hand, and looked at the screens around him. “How does Fury even see these?”

“He turns,” said Deputy Director Hill, looking unamused. Michael hid her smirk.

“Sounds exhausting,” said Tony. He went on to explain that Agent Barton could get whatever other materials he needed for the portal fairly easily, and got into a discussion with Bruce over the science needed to open the portal, which left most of the room feeling out of their depth.

“In other words,” Michael summed up, “Loki could basically open the portal at any time, if he weren’t in our custody.”

“Basically, yes,” said Tony.

“I’m going to talk to him,” Michael decided.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Hill.

“See how much I care,” said Michael, and relocated herself.

Loki’s eyes widened and he blinked, the only signs of surprise he let himself show at the fact that he was suddenly no longer alone in his cell.

“Michael, wasn’t it?” he asked, with a smile that was all teeth. “What brings you here?”

Michael didn’t bother to respond, stepping forward. Loki’s eyes widened again, and he stepped back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What I must,” said Michael, and reached out to rest her hand over Loki’s heart, and _pulled_.

Loki screamed as the magic inside him resisted, but Michael continued pulling ruthlessly, and the magic was no match for her. The magic was yanked free, unspooling like a roll of twine, and unravelled the moment it was no longer inside Loki.

By the time Michael was finished Loki lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath. He propped himself up on one arm and looked up at Michael, his eyes wide with incomprehension and fear. Michael looked down at him.

“You should be able to think a little better now,” Michael said dispassionately.

“What did you do to me?” Loki panted.

“Removed the magic that was influencing you,” Michael replied, undisturbed by Loki’s evident perturbation.

Michael watched as Loki paused to think about it, one of his hands involuntarily coming up to cover his heart.

“Where is the Tesseract?” Michael asked.

“And why should I tell you?” Loki asked, slanting her a sideways glance from where he was still sprawled across the floor.

“I told Fury that I’m powerful enough to destroy this planet. I wasn’t kidding,” said Michael. “But I’d rather protect it, and right now, the Tesseract is a danger to the entire Earth. Especially if you plan to use it to bring an invading army through.”

“They offered to make me a king,” said Loki. “Tell me which offer sounds more appealing.”

“A puppet king? Really? That’s an offer that _appeals_ to you?” Michael asked. “And here I thought you had more self-respect than that.”

Loki snarled at her.

“And what would you do with the Tesseract, once you had it?” he asked.

Michael crouched down, and looked him in the eyes.

“I’d lock it away in a pocket dimension of my own making so that no one could ever find it,” she said seriously. “You have my word.”

Loki hesitated, and Michael easily read his thoughts: he was afraid to trust, afraid of her, but equally afraid of the power that had bound him to its will in the first place. And most of all, he was afraid of that power getting its hands on the Tesseract.

“Erik Selvig has it,” Loki said finally.

“And where is Erik Selvig?” Michael asked quietly.

Loki opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the helicarrier was rocked by an explosion.

“What was that?” Michael wondered, and saw Loki blank his face of all expression. She turned on him. “Tell me!”

“I suspect that is Agent Barton, here to free me and retrieve the spear I was given,” Loki said reluctantly. “He may also intent to destroy this ship.”

Michael let out a sound of deep annoyance.

“Great,” she muttered. “Don’t you go anywhere,” she warned Loki, and took flight.

Sure enough, one of the engines was down, confirming the destroying-the-helicarrier idea, and a group of blue-eyed agents were making their way through the helicarrier.

Michael landed in a hallway, only to immediately be backhanded through a wall. She pulled herself to her feet amid a pile of bits of wall, ignoring the startled faces around her, and heard an inhuman bellow of rage. A second later a green face appeared in the hole Michael had inadvertently created, and panic immediately broke out.

Michael braced herself as the rest of the room ran for the door, and waited.

Sure enough, the Hulk ran forward and tried to hit her again. Michael caught his hand.

The Hulk froze for a moment in sheer surprise and confusion, and Michael reached up to tap two fingers to his forehead. The Hulk toppled over, out like a light. He shuddered all over, and slowly shrank back to Bruce.

That problem taken care of, Michael reappeared near the engines. Iron Man and Captain America appeared to be taking care of the broken engine problem, so she left them to it, and went looking for Thor. In kid form like he was in at the moment, he was particularly vulnerable.

Michael found him in the destroyed remains of a lab, lying unconscious amid the debris. She snapped her fingers, healing him and restoring him to his proper age at the same time.

Thor groaned a little, and opened his eyes.

“You need to go and make sure your brother doesn’t escape,” said Michael. “The helicarrier is under attack.”

“Aye,” said Thor, getting to his feet, and grabbing Mjolnir by the handle. “I will ensure that Loki does not escape.”  
   
“Good,” said Michael, and headed back to the bridge. There, everything was in chaos, but Michael gathered that Natasha was going after Barton.

It took only an instant to narrow in on Natasha’s location, and fly there. When Michael arrived, the two agents were locked in combat on a narrow walkway. Michael threw herself in between them, and advanced on Barton.

The first thing he did was stab her in the throat.

Michael ignored this, reaching out to rest her hand over a surprised Barton’s heart, the same as she had done with Loki, and pulling at the magic there.

This time, the magic was much weaker, and Barton made a pained sound as Michael yanked it free.

Barton staggered slightly, and looked around in confusion.

“ _You_ ,” he said to Michael, and then, “Natasha?” He sounded lost.

Natasha pushed past Michael and punched Barton hard enough to knock him out.

Michael pulled the knife out of her throat and waited for her vocal cords to heal.

“You know he wasn’t under mind control any more, right?” she said.

Natasha gazed down at the unconscious agent.

“I thought it was better to knock him out just in case,” she said. “Besides, I hate it when people make me worry about them.”

Michael laughed.

Natasha’s face suddenly changed.

“What is it?” Michael asked, instantly alert.

“Coulson’s down,” Natasha said, and for a moment her face was full of grief before she suppressed it.

Without a word Michael flew off, searching for Coulson. She landed in the room that had contained Loki’s cell – but the cell was now gone, Loki and Thor were missing, and Nick Fury was kneeling by Coulson, who had a gaping great wound in his middle.

“Dammit, Coulson,” said Michael, and healed him, getting a good look at Coulson’s soul in the process. It shone more brightly than any other human soul Michael had ever seen, but Michael didn’t have time to think about that. She was too busy wondering what had happened to Thor and Loki.

Coulson made a surprised noise, and blinked several times.

“What did you just do?” Fury asked, his eyes wide and incredulous.

“Healed him,” Michael said briefly.

While Coulson and Fury were adjusting to this new development, Michael turned back to the space where Loki’s cell should have been, and scowled.

“What happened to Loki and Thor?” she demanded.

Fury was helping Coulson to his feet.

“Loki tricked Thor into entering the containment cell, and ejected it,” Coulson said. “I’m not sure where Loki went after that.”

Michael was made even more annoyed by this information.

“I’m going after them,” she said, and took flight.

Finding Thor was easy. Michael found herself freefalling in empty air, and looked around to see Loki’s cell falling some distance below her. Inside Thor was being bounced and shaken around, unable to stay still long enough to break free.

Michael spread her wings, slowing her descent, and snapped her fingers, sending Thor back to the helicarrier bridge, and fitting Loki’s cell back into its mountings on the helicarrier.

She took flight a second time, looking for Loki – but something hid him from her sight, some magic that try as she might, stopped Michael from finding him. Michael spent a good hour searching for him, but to no avail. She then tried looking for Erik, but whatever veiled Loki from her sight hid Erik as well. She dropped back down onto the bridge of the helicarrier, letting out a yell of frustration.

Fury, Coulson, Natasha, Thor, Steve, Barton and Tony all turned their heads to look at her.

“Loki?” asked Fury.

“He’s hidden himself somehow. I can’t find him,” Michael admitted angrily. “Or Erik.” She gave the group another glance. “Where’s Dr Banner?”

“He was found unconscious on one of the lower decks, after turning into the Hulk earlier,” said Natasha. “He’s being checked over by Medical.”

“He should be fine, all I did was render the Hulk unconscious,” said Michael.

“Wait, you rendered _the Hulk_ unconscious?” asked Coulson.

“At this point, are you really surprised?” asked Tony. “She can take on Thor, turn him into a kid and back, heal mortal injuries and teleport. Actually, I’m kind of surprised that after all that, she didn’t manage to find Loki.”

“Don’t rub it in,” said Michael in irritation.

“So how do we find him?” Steve asked.

“Loki is clever, and very cunning,” said Thor seriously. “Finding him will be no easy task.”

“No, no,” said Tony, a look of deep thought on his face. “Think about it. Think about what Loki’s like. He’s a showman, a full-blown diva – he wants an audience. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built to the sky with his name plastered–”

Tony cut himself off. For a moment, his face was absolutely priceless.

“Son of a bitch,” he said simply.

“Stark?” Fury demanded, but there was hope in his voice.

“Stark Tower,” said Tony, and now the shocked look had worn off, he was practically vibrating with fury. “That’s where he’s going to be. This has been personal, all along – he’s hit us where it hurts, that’s been his goal, and what could be more personal that taking over the world from the top of _my_ Tower?”

Michael didn’t wait to hear more. She had a trickster god to track down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Michael landed in Tony’s penthouse at the top of Stark Tower.

Everything was quiet and still, but a flash of movement caught her eye on the balcony. Michael walked over, and opened the balcony door.

Several blue-eyed agents raised their guns, ready to fire, but Loki waved them down.

“I was wondering if you would find me,” he said conversationally. “I find myself impressed. However did you get past my warding?”

“I didn’t,” Michael admitted. “Tony Stark worked out where you were. Apparently you’re predictable.”

There was a flash of anger across Loki’s face at that, but he covered it with a smile.

“I see,” he said.

“So,” Michael asked, glancing at the mind-controlled SHIELD personnel around her, “are we going to have our own little curb-stomp battle, or are you going to surrender the Tesseract quietly?”

“What happens to me if I do?” Loki asked.

Michael shrugged.

“That’s SHIELD’s problem,” she said. “As long as you release the people you’re controlling, and hand over the Tesseract, I don’t really care what happens to you. As long as you don’t cause further trouble.”

Loki nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer. He turned to one of the agents behind him, and took a metal briefcase from them. He turned back to Michael, and held the briefcase out to her.

“The Tesseract,” he said, with a wintry smile.

Michael took the briefcase, and opened it. Sure enough, inside was a glowing blue cube, giving off the energy signature that had been left behind at the collapsed SHIELD base. She reached into the briefcase.

“Wait, do not–” Loki started, but cut himself off as Michael pulled the Tesseract out of the briefcase, suffering no apparent ill effects from handling it with her bare hand.

Michael held the Tesseract up, examining it with all of her senses. Then she placed it back in the briefcase, and snapped the briefcase shut. It took only a moment to create a tiny pocket dimension just big enough for the briefcase, and to slide the briefcase into it. Michael made sure that nothing could break through the dimensional walls of the pocket dimension. Maintaining the pocket dimension’s existence required that it be connected to her Grace so that she could constantly feed power into it, but that was no difficulty, given how powerful Michael’s Grace was.

She looked back at Loki, who stood there watching her intently.

“Interesting,” he said. “Your process for creating pocket dimensions is quite different from the one which is normally used by magic-users.”

“Probably because I’m not magical,” said Michael. She folded her arms. “Now release everyone you’re controlling.”

“I would prefer to do so when they are unable to attack me the moment I remove my control,” Loki pointed out. “I can remove them from my thrall from a distance.”

“Fine,” said Michael. “I’ll take you somewhere else.”

Loki turned away and picked up his spear.

“Should I store that thing with the Tesseract?” Michael asked.

“Most probably,” Loki agreed.

Michael snapped her fingers, and the two of them were standing in a grassy field, far from any city.

Loki raised the spear, and a look of concentration crossed his face. He stood like that for several minutes, his face growing paler and paler, and finally his arm fell, and the spear fell from his fingers.

Loki swayed, but caught himself before he fell over.

Michael expanded her little pocket dimension slightly, and shoved the spear in with the Tesseract before closing the pocket dimension again.

Loki looked like he dearly wanted to sit down, but had too much dignity to sit in the middle of a grassy field. Michael snapped him up a chair.

“Thank you,” said Loki, and sank into it.

“Out of curiosity, what are you going to do now?” Michael asked.

“Hide myself on Earth, I expect,” said Loki. “And hope that that one who bound me to his will does not decide to try another method of invasion.”

“The one who bound you to his will?” Michael repeated intently.

“His name is Thanos,” said Loki, and shuddered slightly. “Anything else, I will leave you to discover for yourself. I have earned his wrath enough as it is.”

Michael had to admit that was more or less fair, from Loki’s perspective.

“Fine,” she said. “Where do you want me to leave you?”

“Somewhere I can lay low for a while,” Loki responded. “I fear that SHIELD will be searching for me for some time.”

Michael snapped her fingers, and sent Loki away to a small town in the middle of nowhere, with a wallet full of cash tucked into the folds of his clothes. Then she flew back to the helicarrier.

Tony, Steve, Natasha, Thor and Barton were all missing. Fury turned from where he was peering over a tech’s shoulder to look at Michael.

“The others are on-route to Stark Tower,” he said.

“Tell them not to bother,” said Michael. “The danger’s over. I have the Tesseract, and nobody’s going to be opening any portals with it.”

“The Tesseract is ours,” said Fury, and Michael glared at him.

“Just because you find something doesn’t mean you own it,” she said. “Besides, your people can’t be trusted with it.”

“And you can?” Fury asked pointedly.

“I’ve handled things this dangerous before,” she said. “Heavenly weapons designed to warp space and time, or worse. The Tesseract is safely tucked away where no one will find it, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

“You’re depriving Earth of a tremendous opportunity,” said Fury, but he looked resigned.

“I’m saving it, actually,” Michael retorted, and decided that this argument was over. She took flight, relocating herself to Central Park.

She’d done what she set out to do – the Tesseract had been recovered, and the Earth was safe. But Michael felt restless, ready to fight, full of suppressed emotion that she preferred not to examine.

She was sick and tired of being underestimated, tired of being alone – tired of everything.

Michael felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket, and pulled it out, glancing at the screen. The number listed there was her parent’s home phone number.

“Hey,” said Michael, answering the call, feeling some trepidation.

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then her Mom’s voice said, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Mom,” said Michael, and sat down on the nearest bench.

“Darcy, I’m sorry,” said her Mom, getting straight to the point. Her voice was full of regret. “Can we talk?”

“We’re talking,” Michael replied. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologise,” said her Mom. “For how I acted. It was a shock, but I know I hurt you.”

Michael didn’t bother to deny it. She stayed silent.

“Baby, you’re still my little girl, even if you are an… archangel,” said her Mom awkwardly. “I just want you to know that.”

“That’s good to know,” said Michael. “Is there anything else?”

“Just that I’m sorry,” said Michael’s Mom. “And that your Dad loves you, too. We both do.”

Michael took a deep breath.

“Love you too, Mom,” she said, and hung up the phone.

For a long moment she just sat there, staring into space, unsure of how she felt. She was glad that her parents had apparently accepted her after all… but she couldn’t forget their initial reaction, understandable though it was. It had hurt.

Michael tucked her phone back into her pocket, and stood up, disappearing from the park.

She reappeared in Eloise’s bedroom, where her sister was sitting at her desk, messing about with Facebook on her laptop.

“Hi,” said Michael, and Eloise jumped and swore, spinning her chair around to look at Michael wide-eyed.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Eloise, with a hand over her heart. “Don’t do that to me. I thought I was alone!”

“Sorry,” said Michael. “So, um, you wanted to go to Paris?”

Eloise’s expression brightened, and she immediately logged out of Facebook and shut down her laptop.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Michael agreed. “Come on, I want to have you back before dinner.”

“Yes!” Eloise whooped, grabbing her phone, and Michael snapped her fingers.

A moment later, Eloise’s bedroom was completely empty of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit anticlimactic, I know, sorry...


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Michael was sitting inside a café in New York, sipping a cup of her favourite coffee, when Tony Stark sat down opposite her.

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“So this is what archangels do with their time? Sit around drinking coffee?” Tony asked, ignoring the fact that several people were taking photos of him on their phones. He was wearing a suit, and sunglasses. “I mean, I can’t talk, but somehow I imagined that you guys were more… busy.”

“How did you find me, and what do you want?” Michael gave him an unimpressed look.

“Firstly, the GPS on your phone – I’ve been tracking you, it’s fascinating to watch the way you disappear and reappear on the other side of the globe,” said Tony. “Plus that one time you disappeared off the network entirely. Secondly, what happened to Loki?”

“We came to an agreement, he handed over the Tesseract,” said Michael. “Why have you been tracking me?”

“Call it curiosity.” Tony peered at her over the top of his sunglasses, looking serious. “With the things you can do, it makes me feel a little better to know where you are. Plus, you know, I still owe for the drawing on my face thing.”

Michael felt a smirk pulling at her lips.

“Come on, it was funny, admit it.”

“Never,” Tony declared. “So that one time you disappeared and GPS couldn’t find you – where were you?”

“Probably the moon,” said Michael. “I go there sometimes.”

“Fascinating,” said Tony. “The moon. Really. Is there much to see up there?”

“Not really,” said Michael. “But no one’s going to notice if I make a few extra craters now and then. It’s a good place to go when I’m having anger or frustration issues.”

“Angels have anger issues?” Tony asked, propping his head up on one hand and gazing at her.

Michael laughed mirthlessly.

“You should meet my little brother,” she said. “He’s the king of anger issues.”

“Your little brother?” Tony wore a frown.

“You know, the Prince of Hell? The morning star? Lucifer?”

“The Devil is real?” Tony looked a little disturbed by that, but also interested. Michael closed her eyes for a second, against the ache that talking about Lucifer caused.

“Yeah,” she murmured, “he’s real.”

“Huh,” said Tony. “Who knew.”

He fell into pensive silence for a few moments. Michael didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch out.

“So here’s the thing,” said Tony suddenly. “I’ve convinced the other Avengers to move into Stark Tower, and I know you’ve probably got Heaven or wherever to hang out during your downtime, but I figured, you know, it’d be nice to complete the set. You want to move in?”

Michael stared at him.

“You’re asking me to move into your Tower?” she asked slowly.

“Sure,” said Tony. “It’s sort of like a frat house right now, between Clint and Natasha – you know, I used to think that woman was ladylike, but it turns out she’s as much of a slob as the guys – but there’s room, if you want it.”

Michael thought about it. About being surrounded by comrades and fellow warriors, instead of spending all her time alone, with nothing but the music in her iPod for company. Of making friends with people who knew who and what she really was, and weren’t about to freak out if she did something supernatural.

“That sounds… nice,” she said finally.

“Great!” said Tony. “I’ve assigned everyone a floor, yours is one down from the penthouse floor, and we tend to all meet up in the penthouse kitchen for dinner. You need to choose your furnishings so JARVIS can order them, but we should be able to get them done and delivered by this afternoon. Money talks.” He stood. “If you want to meet me back in the penthouse using your teleportation thing, we can sort everything out now.”

“Sure,” said Michael, grabbing her cup of coffee and standing. “You want me to teleport you, too?”

“Another time, maybe,” said Tony. “Too many people around.” He smiled at the nearest phone as someone took another photo.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” said Michael, and walked out of the café. Outside she slipped into the nearest alley, and flew off to land in the entertaining area of Tony’s penthouse.

Steve Rogers was already there, and he looked startled by Michael’s sudden appearance.

“Michael,” he said hesitantly, and started to stand.

“Hey, relax, no need to get up,” said Michael. “I’m just here to meet up with Tony. Apparently he wants me to move in.”

“You too?” Steve asked. “He asked everyone else weeks ago.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly been in the area, recently,” Michael replied. “It took a while for him to track me down.” She glanced at the TV. “What are you watching?”

“Uh, a television programme called _Doctor Who_ ,” said Steve, a little sheepishly. “Tony insisted.”

“Of course he did,” said Michael. “I have to agree with him on that one, though. _Doctor Who_ is a gift to humanity, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“You watch television?” Steve sounded deeply surprised. “But you’re an angel…”

“Well, I haven’t watched it recently,” Michael admitted, “but so what if I’m an angel? What else am I supposed to do?”

“Help people?” Steve suggested dryly.

“Hey, I might be super-powerful, but I’m still only one angel,” Michael told him. “I can’t help everyone. Besides, I’m better at dealing with problems that need a good smiting. Philanthropy is a bit out of my area of expertise.”

Steve was looking disappointed.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” he said. Michael snorted.

“Steve, I spent millennia trying to be the good guy, okay? It got me nowhere. I did my best, and all I did was make things worse. So I’m done trying to do the right thing, okay? I do what I want.”

Steve looked even more disappointed, and a little pitying. It rankled. What made it worse was that Michael could clearly hear him thinking about her, about how she needed to have a little more faith, both in the world and in herself, and how she shouldn’t give up because of a little adversity.

“A _little_ adversity?” Michael repeated, and watched Steve’s eyes blow wide as he realised that he hadn’t spoken that thought aloud, but Michael had heard it anyway. “How dare you. I have endured _lifetimes_ of what _no one_ should be asked to endure–”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Tony’s voice interrupted urgently, and Michael realised that she was looming over Steve, the shadows of her wings spread aggressively over the walls and floor, and that the overhead lights and the TV screen were flickering.

Tony was standing in the doorway, the Iron Man briefcase in one hand and his eyes darting between Michael and Steve, who looked somewhere between guilty and alarmed, ready to leap up and fight if necessary.

Michael closed her eyes, and wondered when it had become so hard to control her emotions. She reined in her Grace, and folded her wings behind her, letting the shadows of them disappear from human eyes.

“Michael…” Steve began. Michael just held out a hand in a ‘stop’ motion without opening her eyes, and Steve stopped.

“I can’t talk to you right now,” she told Steve. “Excuse me.” She opened her eyes, turning to Tony. “Why don’t we go somewhere else?”

“That might be a good idea,” Tony agreed, looking worried. “Come on, let’s do this in the kitchen.”

Michael followed Tony out of the room, and took a seat at the kitchen table, where she immediately buried her face in her hands, resting her elbows on the tabletop.

“Are you okay?” Tony’s voice was cautious.

“Not really,” was Michael’s response.

“Oh.” Tony didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Michael could feel him hovering, like he wanted to do something helpful, but didn’t know what.

After a couple of minutes Michael sat up, smoothing her hair down and resting her arms on the table. What she really wanted to do was go and visit Gabriel’s tree, but she also wanted to sort out her floor of Stark Tower, first.

She sneaked a glance at Tony, who was looking at her with a mix of sympathy and perturbation.

“Ask,” she said, knowing that Tony had questions.

“Do I want to know what that was about, back there?” He gestured with his thumb towards the open doorway.

Michael sighed.

“I’m ancient, I’m tired, I’m lost and alone, and I’ve lost my conviction,” she said. “Steve wanted to give me advice, and I lost my temper when he got all pitying and righteous. I’m an _angel_ , okay, I don’t need to be lectured on _faith_ by a _human_ of all people.” She took a deep breath, and tried to let her lingering anger go. “Besides, there’s no point. Our Father left, ages ago.”

“Wait, what?” Tony blinked, trying to follow. “Wait. When you say ‘our Father’–”

“I mean Him. God. The Creator,” said Michael tiredly. “He’s gone. And none of us know where, or why he abandoned us.”

“What you’re telling me is  that the Big Guy In The Sky is _missing_ ,” said Tony, and Michael choked at the nickname. “And also, I’m guessing here, that you have daddy issues.”

Michael was still boggling over the ‘Big Guy In The Sky’ remark, and it took her a second or two to respond.

“I guess daddy issues kind of covers it,” she said, looking incredulous. “ _Big Guy In The Sky?_ Seriously?”

“Trust me, I know daddy issues when I hear about them,” Tony said sagely, ignoring her last comment. “Takes one to know one, after all.”

“Yeah, but I bet your Father never expected you to murder your little brother,” Michael said bitterly, looking down at the tabletop.

It only took Tony a moment to put two and two together.

“Lucifer?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” Michael said, still not looking at him. “And I was going to _do_ it, was the thing. I cared so much about what my _absent_ Father wanted that I was willing to try and–”

She broke off, and blinked against the prickling of her eyes. Her chest felt tight.

“I just wanted Him to come home,” Michael finally said quietly, her voice small and forlorn. “So that we could all be a family again.”

Tony patted her on the arm, his expression one of mingled empathy and discomfort.

“I hear you,” he said awkwardly. “My Dad – he wasn’t exactly there either, you know? And I spent years trying to earn his approval, and I never got it. After he died, I kept trying to be the man I thought he’d want me to be, but eventually I realised – well.” He shrugged slightly. “You can’t be someone else’s idea of you. You just have to be the man you are. Or woman, in this case.” He looked uncomfortable, but serious.

“Technically, I only have a gender when I’m inside a vessel,” Michael murmured, “so man, woman, it doesn’t matter.”

“Right. Well.” Tony put his hands palm-down on the table, and pushed himself up to his feet. “This conversation is giving me hives, I’m allergic to too many emotions, so let’s get down to choosing the furnishings for your floor, shall we?”

Michael gave him a slightly wavering smile.

“Sure,” she said, and Tony reached for the nearest tablet.

“So,” he said, fingers flying over the screen, “I had JARVIS compile all the catalogues of available stock for the major suppliers…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Living in Stark Tower, as it turned out, was surprisingly great.

Michael was guaranteed not to be disturbed on her own floor, so if she felt like privacy she could just hang out there, listening to music or watching TV on the massive screen Tony had insisted she choose. It was a lot better than going back to her room at her parents’ house – something she had avoided – or travelling to different places all the time. If, on the other hand, Michael felt like company, there was often someone around in the penthouse entertainment area or kitchen.

Things had been awkward around Steve at first, but he’d apologised for offending her, and Michael had said that she shouldn’t have lost her temper, and after a day or so their interactions lost the strained edge.

The other Avengers – Michael was still amused at the fact that she was apparently considered to be one of them – were a little wary around her, despite the fact that Michael was careful to act more like Darcy in their presence. Tony, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be off-put by Michael’s otherness; instead he kept seeking her out for conversations or to gate-crash Michael’s attempts to catch up on the _Doctor Who_ episodes she’d missed. Michael wasn’t sure exactly why he continued to seek her out, but she was grateful for it. Tony wasn’t always there – sometimes he was on business trips or at his place in Malibu – but he was around often enough that Michael began to think of him as a friend.

As time passed, the other Avengers got used to having Michael around. It helped that Michael usually walked around the Tower, now, instead of just popping in and out – she’d noticed how much it unnerved the other residents, especially after a jumpy Clint had accidentally punched her in the face.

“Sorry,” said Michael, while Clint clutched his broken hand to his chest, turning a shade paler in agony. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Tell that to my hand,” Clint said through gritted teeth. Michael immediately healed the injury. Clint peered at his hand suspiciously, clenching and unclenching his fist to check that it was working as it was supposed to.

“Next time I’ll use the elevator,” Michael promised, faintly chagrined.

“You do that,” Clint said, looking less pleased than ever.

So, yeah, Michael only flew within the Tower if she was exiting or entering the building, and she always landed on her floor, where she wasn’t about to surprise or frighten anyone.

Pepper Potts, Tony’s girlfriend, took Tony’s apparent fascination with Michael unexpectedly well.

“It’s good to see that he’s bonding with someone,” she told Michael. “Tony doesn’t make friends easily, and he’s been keeping the others at a distance. But for some reason, he seems to like you.”

Michael wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just shrugged. Pepper went on.

“He has Rhodey, of course – James Rhodes – but Rhodey’s usually off on missions these days, and Tony has Stark Industries _and_ Iron Man to manage, which doesn’t leave either of them much time to catch up.” 

Michael wasn’t sure what to say to that, either.

“Okay?” she tried. Pepper only patted her on the shoulder, smiled, and walked away with her glass of wine, leaving Michael standing there, bemused.

Of the Avengers who had dealt with the Tesseract debacle, only Thor wasn’t around. He hadn’t been happy with the fact that Michael refused to hand over the Tesseract – not least of all because it was supposed to power the device used to get him home. Apparently the Bifrost had been broken months ago, while Thor was trying to stop Loki from destroying Jotunheim, or something, and was still in the process of being repaired by Asgard’s smiths.

“My father will hear of this,” Thor promised Michael, when she refused to give him the Tesseract.

“How? You’re stuck here,” she said bluntly. Thor’s expression darkened, and she added, “Besides, your father is a big fish in a small pond, Thor. I doubt he wants to meet a shark.”

Thor looked a little confused, and Michael relented a little.

“Although if you want to get home, I can always send you there with no trouble.”

“I would appreciate it,” Thor said stiffly. So Michael had put a hand on his shoulder and flown them both to the gates of Asgard, where a tall dark-skinned dude had nodded regally to her.

“Archangel Michael. Thank for returning Thor to Asgard,” he said.

“You are welcome,” Michael said, inclining her head politely, and flew back to Earth.

Michael knew that Bruce had moved into the Tower mostly because of Tony’s badgering, and Steve because he was lonely, but she wasn’t sure why Natasha or Clint had moved in when they had places of their own to live in.

Natasha was bluntly honest.

“Fury wanted me to keep an eye on Tony and the others,” she said. “At this point, Tony and Steve would trust him about as far as they could throw him, after the phase two weapons were revealed–”

“Phase two weapons?” Michael repeated.

“I think you were dealing with Loki at the time,” said Natasha. “It turns out SHIELD was using the Tesseract technology to produce weapons – neither Steve or Tony were impressed. Nor was Bruce. Anyway, Fury wants to know what everyone is up to.”

“Does Tony know you’re reporting back to Fury?” Michael asked.

“Probably,” Natasha said, with a shrug.

“So, if you’re here to spy on everyone, why is Clint here?” Michael wanted to know.

“He said something about a ‘sweet pad’ and never paying rent,” Natasha responded dryly, and Michael let the topic drop.

Eloise, meanwhile, was incredibly envious.

“I can’t believe you’re living with _Tony Stark_ ,” she said, when Michael stopped by to visit her. “I am so jealous.”

“Why – got a crush?” Michael teased.

Eloise made a face.

“Ew, no,” she replied. “Just – _Tony Stark_ , Darce! Is the Tower as cool as all the stuff on the news said it was?”

“It’s better,” said Michael, and laughed when Eloise made a pained noise.

“You are the worst,” said Eloise.

“Hey, I took you to Paris that one time,” said Michael. Eloise didn’t give up, though, and so one Saturday when Eloise had done all her homework and chores, Michael took her to Stark Tower.

Eloise thought that Michael’s floor was amazing, especially the giant TV screen.

“JARVIS, where’s Tony?” Michael asked.

“He is currently in the penthouse kitchen, Commander,” JARVIS replied. Eloise jumped at the sound of his voice, and then frowned.

“Commander?” Eloise repeated, sending Michael an inquiring look.

“JARVIS likes to address people either by their title or as Mr/Miss/Ms whatever,” Michael explained. “I don’t really feel like Miss Lewis anymore, so I told him to call me by my angelic title.”

“Oh.” Eloise fell silent, a funny look crossing her face.

“So, you want to meet Tony Stark?” Michael asked, and Eloise brightened.

“Hell yes!”

The two of them took the elevator up to the penthouse floor, and Michael led the way across the entertainment area, across to the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, Tony,” said Michael, entering the room. Tony was wearing an AC/DC shirt and jeans, and had streak of machine oil on one cheek.

“Hey there, wingman,” said Tony in reply, sipping at his cup of coffee.

“ _Ohmygodyou’reTonyStark!_ ” said Eloise, all in one breath, entering the room behind Michael and looking star-struck.

“Who is this?” Tony looked mildly alarmed. “Why is there a kid in my kitchen?”

“Hey!” Eloise exclaimed. “I’m a teenager, not a kid!”

“This is my human sister, Eloise Lewis,” Michael said, with a grin. “She kept bugging me to meet you. I think she has a crush on you or something.”

“Nice to meet you, Eloise, and I’m sorry, but I’m already taken,” Tony told Eloise.

Eloise looked mortified.

“I don’t have a crush!” she insisted. “It’s just – your _brain_.” She waved her hands around, like that made what she’d just said make more sense.

“Ah,” said Tony. “Perfectly understandable. I do have a magnificent brain, if I say so myself.” He sent Michael a wink.

Michael rolled her eyes.

Eloise was blushing now, looking even more embarrassed.

“This is not how I imagined this going,” she muttered.

“It never is,” said Tony wisely. “The last time I met one of my heroes, I threw up on his shoes. Trust me, you’re doing great.”

That prompted a giggle from Eloise, which only grew when Michael asked, “Were you drunk at the time?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Tony, without a hint of shame. “In retrospect, that much tequila was a bad idea.”

“You sound like Darcy,” Eloise said, still giggling. “Like, before she angeled up and stuff. She used to say things like that, too.”

Tony blinked at Michael, who avoided looking at either of them.

“Did she,” said Tony, still looking at Michael. “Well, I’d better get back to work – I promised Pepper I’d get all my paperwork done by this afternoon – but you two have fun.”

He shook Eloise’s hand, and left the kitchen. Eloise collapsed into the nearest chair.

“ _Tony Stark!_ ” she said breathlessly.

“You know, you weren’t nearly as phased when I told you I was an archangel,” said Michael, watching her.

“That’s because you’re _you_ , you dork,” said Eloise. “You’re still my sister, whatever else you are.” She sat there for a moment.

“Thanks,” said Michael wryly. She tried not to let on how much Eloise’s words touched her. “Come on, you want to see the rest of the Tower, don’t you?”

‘I want to see _everything_ ,” Eloise declared, bouncing to her feet. 

They didn’t end up seeing quite everything – a lot of the Tower was open to Stark Industries personnel only – but Eloise saw enough that by the time Michael dropped her off home, she was over the moon with excitement.

When Michael left her, she was busy heading downstairs to tell her parents all about her visit to Stark Tower.

Michael smiled a little sadly as she watched Eloise go, and vanished.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

As Christmas neared, Michael found herself buying presents not only for her family, but for the other Avengers. This was harder than Michael had expected, and she spent a considerable amount of time ruminating over what to get everyone. In the end, she bought Steve a scarf in the colours of the American flag (he’d laugh over it, but wear it anyway, because the cold bothered him these days in a way it didn’t before he was frozen in the ice); Clint a purple hoodie plus some new socks to replace ones with holes in them that he kept wearing around the Tower; Natasha a bottle of good wine; and Bruce, a shirt that said _Stand back, I’m going to try science!_

Buying for Tony was probably the hardest of the lot. What did you buy a literal billionaire who had everything he could possibly want? In the end, Michael got all the other Avengers, plus Pepper, to stand with her in a photograph, which she then had framed.

Tony had declared a moratorium on Christmas decorations on the penthouse floor, but Michael and Clint kept putting decorations up anyway, mostly for the sake of raising Tony’s ire every time he spotted mistletoe or candy canes lying around. It was fun, and companionable, and Michael found that she was really enjoying herself for the first time since she’d gotten her Grace back. She had the company of people she liked, she had her little sister, she had Tony’s friendship, and things seemed a little less lonely and difficult than they had when she’d first reclaimed her Grace.

Unfortunately, things couldn’t stay peaceful forever.

Michael emerged from her floor one evening to find the other Avengers crowded around the penthouse TV, watching the news. They all looked somewhere between grim and horrified.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Her eyes focused on the image on-screen. It was of a destroyed building perched on the edge of a cliff.

For a moment no one answered. Then:

“Tony’s dead,” said Clint, sounding disbelieving.

Michael felt like her heart stopped.

“What?”

“Where have you been the last few days?” demanded Steve.

“Visiting a tree, and taking my sister to Disney World,” said Michael, taken-aback by the unexpected fury in Steve’s voice. “How can Tony be dead?”

“He issued a challenge to the Mandarin, the terrorist who’s been all over the news,” responded Natasha, her head bowed. “The Mandarin sent a missile.”

“His Malibu house was totally destroyed, and so far there’s been no sign of Tony,” Bruce said wearily, looking faintly green about the gills, but otherwise holding it together. “But there probably won’t be.”

“It was a stupid thing to do,” said Steve, still sounding furious and helpless.

“Stupider than the stunts you pulled during the war?” Natasha asked, raising a pointed eyebrow.

“This isn’t a war!”

“It _is_ a war, Cap, even if it’s not one you recognise,” said Clint. “And someone had to fight back. I just wish Tony hadn’t stayed in the house.”

“How long ago was this?” Michael’s voice came out cool and distant.

“A few hours,” said Natasha, focusing on Michael. “Why?”

“I’m going to look for Tony,” Michael said.

“Michael – the chances of finding anything left of him…” Bruce trailed off.

“Tony is my _friend_ ,” said Michael fiercely. “I have to try.”

Back in her reality, raising Tony from the dead would have been – not easy, but not truly difficult, either. But in this new universe? Michael honestly didn’t know. Still, if she could find anything left of Tony – something to rebuild his body with, and call his soul back into – well, maybe the situation was recoverable.

Michael flew herself to Malibu, making herself invisible to the various journalists and TV reporters clustered at the edge of the police perimeter surrounding Tony’s destroyed house. She spotted Pepper standing near the remains of  the house, looking distraught.

“Pepper?” Michael made herself visible to Pepper only.

“Michael!” Pepper looked like she was about to cry, but somehow she held it together. Judging by how red her eyes were, she’d already been crying. “Can you do something? _Anything?_ Tony –” She broke off, blinking away tears.

“I’ll do my best,” Michael promised seriously. She patted Pepper’s shoulder. The poor woman looked devastated. “Has there been any sign of him?”

“Not since the missile went off,” said Pepper, wiping at her eyes. “But half the house fell into the sea, and…” Pepper’s mouth quivered, and she put a hand up to press back a sob.

“I’ll take a look around,” Michael said to Pepper, and made herself fully invisible again. She stretched out her senses, searching for Tony, but she couldn’t find him anywhere.

Michael was in the middle of searching the sea floor when reality shook, and there was a blaze of unmistakeable energy from Tennessee. And not just anywhere in Tennessee, either.

The blaze of Grace came from the location of Gabriel’s tree.

Michael stood there, mouth open, as she realised that Gabriel had just reclaimed his Grace.

Michael’s heart was beating wildly, and she desperately wanted to go to her brother, but what about Tony? She hadn’t found him, not even a trace of him anywhere near the Malibu house, which meant that she needed to widen her search to the rest of the globe. But that would take time, and meanwhile Gabriel was back – the brother she hadn’t seen in a millennium, the one she owed so much of an explanation to…

In the end, Michael couldn’t help herself. She flew to where Gabriel’s tree was.

The tree was still there, no longer filled with Grace, but there, and an unexpectedly familiar figure was leaning with his hand against the trunk of the tree, bits of the Iron Man suit littering the snow around him.

Michael had found Tony after all. But he wasn’t the only person she’d found.

“ _Gabriel_.”

At the sound of his name being spoken, Gabriel looked up. His eyes met Michael’s, his face full of residual shock.

“ _Michael?_ ” Gabriel’s gaze was incredulous, and as Michael watched, a welter of conflicting emotions crossed his face.

“Hello, brother,” said Michael, her heart swelling with joy and apprehension.

The apprehension grew as Gabriel’s hand fell away form the trunk of the tree, and a blank expression took over his face.

“Well, well. Michael. Got to say, I didn’t expect this turn of events.” And that was all Gabriel, not a hint of Tony in the carefully blank gaze.

“What happened to you?” Michael blurted.

“Are you talking about after I left Heaven, or before I became human?” Gabriel asked evenly.

“Both,” said Michael, desperate for answers.

“Well.” Gabriel frowned, and after a second’s thought snapped up a candy bar, which he took a bite out of. “The answer to the first question is pretty easy. I ran, I hid, in my own little witness protection program. Took up the name Loki, and hey presto, a brand new trickster god was added to the Norse pantheon.” Gabriel paused, and wrinkled his nose. “This universe’s Loki gives the rest of us a bad name.”

“You – you masqueraded as a pagan god?” Michael spluttered.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Gabriel flashed her a smile as bright as it was false. “As for question two, well, that’s a little harder to answer. The last thing I remember is throwing my lot in with the Winchesters, and Lucy shanking me in the gut.”

Michael felt a wave of coldness wash over her at Gabriel’s words.

“He didn’t, please, tell me he didn’t,” Michael found herself pleading, her horrified eyes fixed on Gabriel.

Lucifer had no reason to kill Gabriel – surely he wouldn’t –

Gabriel’s expression was hard, but his eyes were oddly sympathetic as he replied, “Sorry, Mikey. I guess Lucy really would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.” Gabriel's voice was bitter.

“But – you’re his _brother!_ ” Michael protested, knowing even as she said it that it didn’t matter. Not to Lucifer, in the grip of cold rage and self-righteous fury. Michael felt sick.

Gabriel’s smile was painful as he responded, “Yeah, well, that didn’t hold as much weight as I thought it did.” With forced lightness he added, “So, what happened to _you?_ You and Lucifer have your big showdown?”

Michael shook her head, a faint laugh escaping at the question.

“The Winchesters won,” she said, and Gabriel’s eyebrows flew up. “Dean refused to say yes to me, so I took his half-brother as a vessel, instead. Sam said yes to Lucifer, but… somehow, I don’t know how, he managed to wrest back control just long enough to re-open the Cage. Both Lucifer and I were sucked in.”

Gabriel’s eyes were fixed firmly on Michael, and his expression was wondering.

“Well, how about that,” he said softly. “Guess I didn’t die for nothing, after all.”

That was it. Michael felt the tears that had been threatening finally spill over.

“Gabriel, I’m so _sorry_ ,” she said in a choked voice. “So, so sorry. I was supposed to hold our family together, and instead I made everything worse. This is all mine and Lucifer’s fault. If we could have just sorted things out…” Michael tried to gold back a sob, but it came anyway.

Gabriel was gaping at her in open astonishment, clearly stunned by Michael’s remorse and grief.

“Hey,” he said helplessly. “Hey. Don’t cry. Seriously, don’t – I didn’t even know you _could_ cry, it’s freaking me out, here. Michael?”

Michael felt herself crying harder.

His expression torn between sympathy, alarm and plain incredulity, Gabriel crossed the distance between the two of them.

“There’s no need to cry,” said Gabriel awkwardly. “I’m fine. See?” He held out his arms in demonstration. “Good as new, brand new vessel all my own–”

Michael threw her arms around him. Gabriel went stiff with surprise, but after a second or two he relaxed into the embrace. The two of them stood there, hugging.

“Hey,” Gabriel said after a while, and his voice was low and soft. “It’s not your fault. Really. You were just trying to stop everything falling apart. I get it. I blame Dad and Lucifer more than I do you. Not to let you off the hook, or anything, but… yeah. I get it.”

Michael sniffed, and let go of her little brother so she could wipe her face and blow her nose.

“Pretty certain you’re being a lot more forgiving than I deserve,” she managed.

Gabriel shrugged, carefully casual.

“Yeah, well, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of since Dad left, including me,” he said. “So, you know, there’s something to be said for second chances.” He looked wry “And since Dad seems to have given us one… I mean, that _is_ what happened to you, right?”

Michael stared at him.

“You think this is a second chance?”

“What else would it be?” Gabriel asked, looking like he was honestly asking.

“I thought – punishment,” Michael stammered, but Gabriel shook his head, a faint smile forming.

“No,” he said, oddly certain. “It’s a second chance. A shot at free will, redemption – whatever. This is our second chance. Well, that, or Dad thought we’d messed up the world enough that it was better off without us, I wouldn’t rule that out.”

He cleared his throat, and eyed Michael with interest.

“So,” he said, and Michael could _hear_ the grin as well as see it, “you’ve turned into a bit of a prankster, huh?”

“What?”

“The permanent marker thing, during the helicopter flight – remember?” Gabriel traced circles around his eyes with one finger, and Michael understood what he was talking about.

“It was a pretty long trip,” Michael said, unable to help her own small, shaky smile.

“So you drew on my face.” Gabriel sounded amused. “That seems unlike you.”

“Being human had a lasting influence on me,” Michael told him.

“Apparently.” Gabriel cocked an eyebrow.

They fell into silence, neither quite sure what else to say. Neither of them quite knew the other, anymore, and while Michael wanted to bridge the gulf between them, she knew that would take time.

Michael abruptly remembered why she’d been looking for Tony in the first place, before she’d felt Gabriel’s Grace flare.

“Steve is furious at you, by the way.” Michael broke the silence. “And Pepper thinks you’re dead. Everyone does.”

Gabriel’s face went through a series of emotions, ending on consternation.

“Shit, Pepper,” he said, and went to the Iron Man helmet lying on the ground, shoving it over his head.

“JARVIS?” he asked, but there was no reply, judging by the frustrated noise Gabriel made. He snapped his fingers, and tried a second time. “JARVIS?”

Michael could faintly hear JARVIS’ voice responding. After a moment Gabriel spoke.

“JARVIS, put me through to Pepper.” There was a pause, before Gabriel spoke again. “Pepper, it's me. I've got a lot of apologies to make and not a lot of time. So... First off, I'm so sorry I put you in harm's way. That was selfish and stupid, and it won't happen again. Also, it's Christmas time and the rabbit's too big. Done. Sorry. And I'm sorry in advance because I can't come home yet. I need to find this guy. You’ve got to stay safe, that's all I know. Don’t worry about me – Michael’s got my back on this one. I think. Take care. Don’t do anything I’d do.”

After another moment Gabriel pulled the helmet off again, looking troubled.

“So, we’re going after the Mandarin?” Michael asked.

“He’s terrorised the world, and now he’s blown up my house,” said Gabriel, snapping his fingers. The different pieces of the Iron Man suit flew towards him and began interlocking into place, the damage they’d taken vanishing, leaving the suit good as new. Gabriel put the helmet back on, and it latched onto the rest of the suit, settling into place. This time when he spoke, it was through the suit. “Damn straight we’re going after him.” There was a moment’s hesitation. “That is, if you’re with me.”

Michael laid a hand on the shoulder of the suit, looking into its optics.

“Brother, there is nothing that would please me more than to fight by your side.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Gabriel, but Michael could tell that he was relieved. “I could do this myself, you know, but I’m still feeling a little bit – disoriented, is probably the best word. Am I Gabriel, or am I Tony Stark? Obviously, I’m both, but things aren’t quite gelling together, yet. It’s weird. Huge dissonance. Did this happen to you?”

“Yeah,” Michael said. “It happened to me. Still does, sometimes.”

“Great,” said Gabriel. “That’s – peachy.”

“So, where to next?” Michael asked.

“That’s what I need to find out.” Gabriel looked at her. “You ready to go?”

“Wait.” This time it was Michael who snapped her fingers. Golden armour bloomed around her, cuirass and shoulder-guards and gauntlets appearing, while around her legs and feet protective greaves and sabatons formed. Last of all to appear was the Grecian-style helmet, with red plumes attached to the top. The armour _shone_.

Michael pushed back her helmet to reveal her face, and grinned at her brother.

“ _Now_ I’m ready.”

“Let’s do this,” said Gabriel, and the two of them took flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take a while - I need to find time to re-watch Iron Man 3.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

For months now, Michael had been alone in this reality. Her only comforts had been paying visits to Gabriel’s inert Grace, listening to her iPod, and spending time with Tony and the others. Now here she was, her little brother restored to her – a little brother who, miraculously, seemed to have forgiven Michael her terrible mistakes. The fact that she was no longer alone was _wonderful_.

It was weird, though, knowing that her brother was both Gabriel and Tony – Michael knew both of them, but she wasn’t sure she knew the archangel flying next to her anymore. Because this Gabriel wasn’t the Gabriel she’d known before he left Heaven, friendly but serious, and he wasn’t quite Tony either, not now he had his Grace again. If the glimpse Michael had seen was any indication, Gabriel was bitter – understandably so – and just as lost as she was, and with a sense of humour that was entirely new since the last time she’d seen him.

But then, Gabriel no doubt felt exactly the same way about her. Being Darcy Lewis had changed Michael a lot, she knew that. She knew, truthfully, that she wasn’t the angel that the rest of the Heavenly Host had known. Not that she was Darcy either, anymore – Michael tried to act more like Darcy around Eloise, but she was aware that she didn’t always manage it.

She and Gabriel still had so much to talk about, so much to work through, but at least they’d made a start. And Gabriel was including her on his little mission against the Mandarin, trusting her to have his back, however unnecessary that was, and Michael was… touched, at the show of trust that her inclusion indicated.

The two archangels touched down in the middle of a small town not too far from the tree that had housed Gabriel’s Grace.

“Where are we?” Michael asked, ignoring the glances that were being sent by the other people nearby. The Iron Man armour was distinctive and recognisable, while Michael’s armour shone brightly.

“Rose Hill, Tennessee,” Gabriel replied, walking forwards.

“And _why_ are we here?” Michael asked, following after him.

“I need to ask someone some questions,” said Gabriel. “You see, Happy was injured in the last bombing, so I was looking into it – there were some things that didn’t check out. Patterns.”

“And this person was one of them?” Michael suggested.

“Not her. Her son.”

Heads turned as the two of them walked into the nearby bar, only for everyone to look away hastily, clearly wanting to avoid getting caught up in any trouble. The difference between them and the camera-happy crowds of New York was marked.

Only one woman didn’t proceed to ignore them as Gabriel took off his helmet and let the suit shrink down into a briefcase, before walking towards her. Michael stayed near the door, letting Gabriel take the lead.

“Mrs Davis? Mind if I join you?” He slid onto the seat opposite the woman without waiting for an answer.

“Free country.”

“Sure is,” Gabriel agreed.

“All right,” Mrs Davis said, tilting her head at Gabriel. “Where would you like to start?”

For once, Gabriel went with tact.

“I just want to say, I'm sorry about your loss,” he told Mrs Davis, and allowed a respectful pause before he went on. “I want to know what you think happened.”

Mrs Davis scowled, and picked up the file full of papers on the table next to her. She pushed it in Gabriel’s direction.

“Look, I brought your damn file. You take it, go. Whatever was in here, he wanted no part of it.”

Gabriel opened the file, looking at the first page with a frown.

“Clearly, you're waiting for someone else,” he observed. “Supposed to meet someone here?”

“Yeah.” Mrs Davis looked confused.

“Mrs Davis, your son didn't kill himself. I guarantee you, he didn't kill anyone. Someone used him.”

“What?” Mrs Davis looked more confused than ever.

“As a weapon,” Gabriel explained, deathly serious.

The woman stared at him, realisation dawning slowly.

“You’re not the person that called me after all, are you?”

“Actually, I am,” said a new voice, and Gabriel and Michael looked around to see a young woman standing by the table Gabriel and Mrs Davis were sitting at.

Before anyone else could react, the young woman tried to grab Gabriel’s wrists and pin them behind his back.

The key word being ‘tried.’ Gabriel was as immovable as a rock. The young woman strained for a few seconds, before pausing in confusion.

Gabriel turned his head slowly slowly.

“And who are you?” he asked her, smiling, and Michael didn’t recognise that smile. It was bright and cheerful, with an undercurrent of something dark and dangerous. “That’s a lot of strength you’ve got there. Not enough when you’re dealing with me, but still, I’m impressed.”

“Hey, what’s all this about?” asked the burly man who came striding over.

“Sheriff, is it?” asked the young woman. Gabriel turned to glance at him.

“Yes ma’am, it is,” said the burly man, his eyes hard and assessing. “And you are?”

The woman pulled out a badge that made Gabriel’s eyebrows rise.

“Homeland Security,” she said, with a fake smile. “We good here?”

“No, we're not ‘good’,” said the Sheriff bluntly. “I need a little more information  
than that.”

“Well, I think it's a little above your pay grade, Sheriff,” said the young woman, still smiling.

The sheriff was unimpressed. Gabriel’s eyes were moving between the young woman and the sheriff, not missing a thing. As Michael watched, he made eye contact with Mrs Davis, and nodded towards the file on the table, tilting his head. Mrs Davis quietly flung the file away to slide across the floor and under a bench. The woman with the Homeland Security badge didn’t appear to notice.

“Yeah?” the sheriff demanded. “Well, why don't you get on the horn to Nashville and, uh, upgrade me?”

The woman laughed a little. It wasn’t a nice laugh.

“All right. You know what?” she asked. “I was hoping to do this the smart way, but, uh, the fun way is always good.”

“Deputy,” the sheriff began, clearly fed up, “get this woman out of…”

The Homeland Security woman’s hands began to glow fiery orange, and she made a movement to grab the sheriff’s face.

Halfway there Gabriel caught her hand, and held it fast. There was a sizzling sound, and the woman was glowing like fire all over now, but Gabriel’s expression didn’t change from its hard, glittering smile.

“Interesting,” Gabriel mused, tilting his head to one side thoughtfully, and watching as the woman tried to pull herself free from his grasp, gasping as Gabriel’s grip tightened.

“What the hell–” said the sheriff, backing away with a look of horror. Michael decided that Gabriel had the situation in hand, and crouched down to pick up the file that Mrs Davis had dropped.

People were screaming and running from the bar, shepherded outside by the sheriff, but Gabriel paid them no heed, his eyes still fixed on the glowing woman’s arm.

Slowly, he bent her arm back towards her body, moving her hand towards her chest. The woman tried to back away, but Gabriel stepped forward, and continued forcing her hand towards her torso.

“What _are_ you?” asked the woman, and for the first time fear appeared in her bright orange eyes, the fiery glow fading somewhat. 

Gabriel paused to consider the question, and the woman tried a second time to pull free of his grip, a look of pain on her face.

“Call me… retribution,” said Gabriel, and forced the woman’s hand glowing hand into her chest.

The woman gasped and started to glow even more brightly, only this time Michael had the feeling that it wasn’t deliberate.

Michael snapped her fingers just in time. The next moment, there was an explosion.

An invisible force-field contained the blast, reducing the explosion to a fiery ball of burning energy, too bright for human eyes to look at. When the explosion died away, Gabriel was left standing at the centre of the force-field, completely unharmed. There wasn’t a single sign left that the Homeland Security woman had ever existed.

“Well, that’s a new one on me,” Gabriel remarked, apparently unfazed. “You know what, after that, I could do with a drink.” He snapped his fingers, and a moment later was holding a cocktail glass full of a ruby red liquid. A tiny paper umbrella protruded from the glass. Gabriel took a gulp, somehow managing not to poke himself in the eye with the tiny umbrella in the process.

Michael stared at him.

“You became a trickster god, you said?” she asked slowly. Gabriel glanced down at himself, then back up at Michael, as though only now realised how his actions looked to another archangel.

“Oh, come on,” Gabriel complained. “Her soul was like a stinking sewer. Besides, she tried to kill the sheriff. Like I was going to let her get away with that.”

“Maybe next time just go for a smiting,” said Michael, still staring.

“What, and lose all that empirical data?”

Michael glared at him.

“Oh, fine,” said Gabriel, and his eyes drifted to something behind Michael. “I’ll smite them next time.”

Michael spun, to see a couple of guys standing in the doorway to the bar, glowing the same fiery orange that the Homeland Security woman had.

“How about I sit this one out, and you take care of it,” said Gabriel, sipping at his cocktail.

Michael rolled her eyes, but as the glowing guys advanced she threw Gabriel the file she was holding,  pulled out her sword, and readied herself.

One of the glowing guys made the first move, grabbing for the blade of her sword with a smirk on his face, only for his expression to transform into one of surprised pain when the blade sliced through fiery flesh. He snatched his hand back, smirk gone, a new look of wariness there, even as his hand healed over.

The second guy made a grab for Michael, and she ducked underneath and stabbed upwards, towards where his heart should be. The man gasped, but when Michael pulled her sword free, he straightened, the wound in his torso disappearing.

Right, Smiting was definitely the way to go.

Michael looked around to make sure that everyone else had left the bar. Then she partially slipped free of her vessel.

Blinding light filled the inside of the bar, which started shaking. The amount of energy loose in the bar grew, sweeping forward to encompass the two fierily-glowing men. In an instant, their bodies were obliterated, destroyed by the sheer power of Michael’s Grace.

Michael reeled herself back in, pulling herself back into the confining space of her vessel. Slowly the earth stopped shuddering, and the light died away.

The inside of the bar was a mess, but Gabriel was still standing there, cocktail in one hand and the file in the other.

“Nice work there, Mikey,” he said approvingly. “Didn’t even knock the building down.”

He took a seat on an abandoned bar stool, and began reading through the file. After a few minutes, he whistled.

“Well. Someone’s been naughty.” He read on through the file. “Well, at least I know where to go looking, now.”

“Which is where?” Michael asked.

“Advanced Idea Mechanics,” said Gabriel, eyes still on the file. “AIM. I thought they might be involved, but this file – let’s just say it makes everything clear.”

“Then explain it to me,” said Michael, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

But Gabriel was turning to the TV screen mounted on the wall. A moment ago it had been showing a sports channel: now, it was showing a bearded man, and Gabriel’s eyes were dark as they fixed upon the screen.

The volume of the TV turned up by itself under Gabriel’s gaze, and Michael could hear what the guy on screen was saying.

“Mr President. Only two lessons remain. And I intend to finish this before Christmas morning.”

Gabriel moved to where the Iron Man briefcase sat, and the suit began assembling around him.

The TV screen cut to a short of the face of a crying man.

“Meet Thomas Richards,” said the voice-over, over the crying man’s sobs. “Good strong name. Good strong job. Thomas, here, is an accountant for the Roxxon Oil Corporation. But I’m sure he’s a really good guy.” As the voice-over continued, the camera zoomed out, revealing that Thomas was lying at the feet of the bearded man.

“JARVIS, the Mandarin’s broadcast – track it now,” said Gabriel. “Take a good look at AIM’s facilities – they’re probably involved somehow.”

Meanwhile, the TV had cut back to a close-up of the bearded guy, who was still talking.

“I'm going to shoot him in the head, live on your television in thirty seconds,” said the bearded guy.

“No!” wailed Thomas.

“The number for this telephone is in your cell phone. Exciting, isn't it, imagining how it got there? America, if your president calls me in the next half-minute, Tom lives. Go!”

“We have to find him,” said Michael.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Gabriel asked tersely. “But it’s going to take a while. This isn’t home – we can’t just find a soul we’ve never met. Our best hope of finding the Mandarin is JARVIS. And even he can’t hurry this process up.”

There was a moment of tense silence. On-screen, a telephone began to ring. The Mandarin stared into the camera, giving no sign he heard the sound. Then he moved, revealing a handgun, took aim –

Michael closed her eyes at the sound of the gunshot.

“There's just one lesson left, President Ellis,” the Mandarin’s voice said, “So run away, hide, kiss your children goodbye. Because nothing, not your army, not your red, white and blue attack dog, can save you. I'll see you soon.”

Michael heard the TV go to static, before normal programming resumed. She opened her eyes.

She didn’t need to see Gabriel’s face to know that he was angry.

“Find this guy, JARVIS,” said Gabriel, and even through the suit, his voice was grim. “Whatever it takes.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

It took JARVIS time to find out where the Mandarin’s broadcast signal came from, but he found the location eventually.

“ _Miami_ _?_ ” Michael exclaimed. “The Mandarin is in _Miami_ _?_ ”

“Apparently,” said Gabriel. “Trust me, I was as surprised as you are.”

“So he’s been working with this company AIM, and these bombings – they’re not really bombings?” Michael asked.

“Nope,” said Gabriel. “They’re misfires. AIM was trying to create a super-soldier; instead they discovered the secret to spontaneous combustion.”

“But those guys who came after us…” Michael began.

“The glowing guys? Yeah. Apparently some of AIM’s test subjects were a success.”

“So what do you want to do?” Michael asked him. Gabriel looked back at her.

“What, you’re going to let me run the show? Not going to insist that as Commander of the Host, you get to call the shots?”

Michael didn’t speak. She simply raised her one eyebrow, and let the silence draw out.

She could practically feel Gabriel wince, even though his expression was hidden by the Iron Man helmet.

“Right, okay, maybe I’m still a little mad at you,” he admitted. “But to be fair, you rode roughshod over me for millennia with all that ‘Commander’ crap.”

“That’s fair,” Michael said, as neutrally as possible. “But I’m not doing it now.”

“No, you’re not,” Gabriel agreed. “Right then, since I’m in charge of this one… let’s go find the Mandarin and put a stop to him. And after that, we deal with AIM.”

Michael gave Gabriel a lackadaisical salute.

“Aye aye, _mon capitaine_ ,” she said, and stood to attention, her sword sheathed at her side, her armour still shining brightly. Gabriel stared at her for a second, like he didn’t know what to do with any of that.

“Let’s go,” said Gabriel finally, and took flight. Michael followed.

* * *

They touched down outside a fancy house in Miami. Gabriel didn’t stop, just went stomping across the garden in the suit, ignoring the guys with guns who tried to stop him. Gabriel swiped two fingers, and the guns went flying. Another swipe, and the men fell to the ground unconscious.

Michael had to hand it to him, Gabriel was being pretty efficient about this. She’d wondered if he’d stick to using technology, but right now, he was going straight for the angelic powers.

She followed behind him as he made his way into the house. Inside, the place seemed deserted, but Gabriel went walking through it anyway, looking for the Mandarin.

There was a guard outside one room, and Gabriel sent him unconscious with the swipe of another finger, while Michael caught him and lowered him silently to the ground. Gabriel opened the door the man had been guarding, and walked inside.

There was a double-bed by the far wall, with two bulges in it. Gabriel walked forward and whipped off the covers. There were twin gasps, and Gabriel found himself looking at two wide-eyed women.

Gabriel paused for a second, presumably in confusion, just in time to hear a toilet flush from nearby. Gabriel turned, raising a hand, and the repulsor brightened at the centre of his palm.

The Mandarin walked out of the adjoining bathroom.

“Put your hands in the air,” said Gabriel.

The Mandarin’s eyes went wide, and he quickly did as Gabriel said.

“Bloody hell,” he said. “You’re Iron Man!” His accent was distinctly British.

Michael saw Gabriel’s arm lower slightly.

“What the hell?” Gabriel demanded, which summed up Michael’s thoughts nicely.

“Who are you and where’s the real Mandarin?” Michael asked, stepping forward and getting the guy’s attention. His eyes widened a second time as he took in the sight of Michael dressed in her glowing armour.

“Wow, I love the outfit,” he said, and then quailed under Michael’s glare. “Here! He’s here, but he’s not here.”

“Explain,” said Gabriel. “Now.” The repulsor whined warningly, but didn’t fire just yet.

“My name is Trevor. Trevor Slattery,” said the guy who was not, apparently, the Mandarin.

“What are you? What are you, a decoy? You're a double, right?” Gabriel asked.

“What, you mean like an understudy? No, absolutely not,” the guy declared, looking offended. Michael grabbed the front of his shirt and raised a threatening fist.

“Talk!” she ordered.

“Don't hurt the face!” Trevor yelped, cringing.

“Then _talk!_ ”

“I'm an actor,” Trevor said quickly.

“You’ve got a minute to live,” said Gabriel shortly. His arm was still raised, trained on Trevor. “Fill it with words.”

“It's just a role,” Trevor blurted. “The Mandarin, see, it's not real.”

“Then how did you get here, Trevor?” Michael asked, knowing that Gabriel was very near to just blasting the guy to oblivion.

“Well, I, um, had a little problem with, um, substances. And I ended up doing things, no two ways about it, in the street, that a man shouldn't do.” He looked a little embarrassed.

“Then what?” Michael pressed.

“Then, they approached me about the role, and they knew about the drugs.”

“What did they say?” Gabriel asked. “They'd get you off them?”

“They said they'd give me more,” Trevor explained. “They gave me things. They gave me this palace. They gave me plastic surgery. They gave me things.”

“In return for what?” asked Michael.

“Well, the thing was, he needed someone to take credit for some accidental explosions,” said Trevor.

“Who?” Gabriel demanded.

“Killian,” said Trevor.

Michael felt Gabriel’s Grace ripple with murderous intent.

“Killian,” said Gabriel. “He created you?”

“He created me,” Trevor agreed.

“Custom-made terror threat.” Gabriel was clearly working it out in his head.

Trevor made the mistake of showing some enthusiasm as he realised that Gabriel had grasped the whole idea.

“Yes! Yes,” he gabbled. “His think tank thinked it up. The pathology of a serial killer. The manipulation of Western iconography.” He put on the Mandarin’s accent. “Ready for another lesson? Blah, blah, blah. No.” He lost the accent, reverting back to his British one. “Of course, it was my performance that brought the Mandarin to life,” he added proudly.

“Your performance?” Michael echoed, before Gabriel could. “People _died!_ ”

Trevor looked at her like she was an idiot.

“No, they didn't,” he said. "Look around you. The costumes, green screen. Honestly, I wasn't on location for half this stuff. And when I was, it was movie magic, love,” he finished condescendingly, and Michael almost punched him there and then.

“I’ve heard enough. Deal with him,” said Gabriel shortly, and vanished without even bothering to tell Michael where he was going, even though she could guess.

“Where did he go?” Trevor asked, gaping in wonder.

“To deliver just desserts, I’m guessing,” said Michael, and punched Trevor in the face. He went down like a sack of bricks. “ _Deal with him_ , he says. Thanks, Gabriel. Just fly off without me.”

Something slammed into the back of Michael’s head and bounced off. Michael just turned around slowly, to see a guy standing behind her, looking taken-aback. He was holding a baseball bat.

Michael snapped her fingers, and the guy collapsed to the floor. She looked thoughtfully down at Trevor.

Just an actor or not, the man was culpable. Michael snapped her fingers a second time, and sent Trevor to the headquarters of the FBI. Hopefully someone there would deliver what he deserved. If not… well, she or Gabriel could pay him another visit later.

That done, Michael went after her brother.

She arrived with only a slight displacement of air, to find Gabriel radiating such murderous rage that she almost recoiled. Sure, she knew her little brother could get angry, but _this_ angry?

Michael followed Gabriel’s gaze to see him staring at a man aged somewhere in his forties, who was smiling. The guy hadn’t yet noticed Michael appearing in the corner of the room. Michael promptly made herself invisible, waiting to see what Gabriel did next.

“What have you done to Pepper?” Gabriel asked quietly, and Michael felt herself go hard and cold inside, abruptly understanding why Gabriel was so full of rage. Michael felt her own wrath rising.

If that wretch had done something to Pepper, who was good and kind and the focus of Gabriel’s utter adoration…

The idiot – Killian, Michael assumed – continued smiling, unaware of his impending doom.

“Oh, nothing yet,” he said, and rolled three little devices across the floor, and pulled out a remote control. He pressed a button and suddenly, there was a holograph of Pepper hovering above the floor.

Pepper’s shirt was gone, leaving her stripped to her bra, and she was strapped to some sort of upright table. Her expression was desperate and afraid.

“But very soon, Pepper is going to become the newest test subject for Extremis,” Killian went on. “If her body accepts it, she’ll have gifts far and above those of ordinary mortals. If not… well, I have to say, the detonation is quite spectacular.”

“Michael,” Gabriel grated out through the suit’s vocals. “Get Pepper.”

“Michael?” Killian raised his eyebrows. “Who are you talking to? Is –”

Michael didn’t hear the rest, because she was already honing in on Pepper.

Michael reappeared in a lab, where her sudden materialisation caused instant consternation among the scientists. She snapped her fingers, and the men and women collapsed like puppets with cut strings.

“Michael!” Pepper looked like she was going to cry, struggling against the restraints.

“Easy, Pepper,” said Michael, and snapped her fingers again, the restraints vanishing. She was just in time to catch Pepper as the woman toppled off the upright table, steadying Pepper as she staggered.

Michael put a hand on Pepper’s shoulder and flew them back to where Gabriel and Killian were.

Pepper made a noise in her throat as she saw Gabriel holding Killian by the neck.

“You okay, Pep?” Gabriel asked, without looking away from the man he was holding.

“Oh my God, Tony!” Pepper blurted.

“She’s fine,” Michael assured her brother. "Shaken up, but fine."

Killian let out a gurgle of laughter around the grip on his throat, and started to glow orange. There was a sizzling sound as Gabriel’s hand began to burn.

Gabriel didn’t let go.

Gabriel’s Grace started to escape his vessel, and Michael realised what he was going to do.

Michael snapped her fingers, creating a force-field around herself and Pepper, and pulling Pepper close so that the woman’s face was tucked into the curve of her neck.

“What–” Pepper began, even as she went with the movement.

“Close your eyes,” Michael ordered.

Gabriel was outlined in a haze of white light, and Killian’s face changed from smugness to confusion to incredulity.

“You’re going to regret everything you’ve ever done,” said Gabriel, more than a hint of his true voice leaking through, and Michael covered Pepper’s ears. Killian flinched at the sound.

“What _are_ you?” he asked. Gabriel smirked darkly, and didn’t reply. Instead, he left his vessel.

The true form of an archangel filled the room and expanded beyond it, obliterating Killian and the building he’d been standing in within an instant. But Gabriel didn’t stop, letting his true form stretch upwards towards the sky, a blinding pillar of light that consumed all the neighbouring buildings.

Michael stood at the centre of the maelstrom, shielding Pepper, as the ground shook and the roar of Gabriel’s Grace filled the air. Michael felt her brother pause, and suddenly, there was a suit of armour like Gabriel’s inside the force-field, only this one was done in red, white and blue. It was damaged in a way that suggested that someone had been trying to break it open.

Michael recognised the Iron Patriot armour, and knew that Gabriel’s friend Rhodey must be inside, although what he was doing here she didn’t know.

Outside the force-field, Gabriel’s Grace began to diminish, as Gabriel drew back into his vessel, the light fading away, leaving Gabriel standing just outside the force-field, still wearing the Iron Man armour. Everything within a certain radius was just gone, as though it had never been.

Michael lowered the force-field, and Gabriel walked over, and tapped on Iron Patriot’s helmet.

“Open up, it’s me,” said Gabriel, and opened the faceplate on the Iron Man armour so that the three of them could see his expression.

Rhodey reached up, and a second later the Iron Patriot faceplate flipped open, revealing Rhodey’s bewildered face.

“Tony?” he asked. “What the hell? Where did you come from? One second the Mandarin’s guys were trying to pry me out of the armour, and then there was this bright light, and a second later the suit’s optics went dead.”

“Yeah, be glad about that,” Gabriel told him, and turned to where Pepper was unfolding herself from Michael.

“Tony?” she asked, her eyes wide and full of residual fear.

“Pepper?” Gabriel took her by the shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Pepper looked as bewildered as Rhodey did. “What… what happened?” She looked around her, at the devastation surrounding the small group. “How…?”

Gabriel glanced at Michael helplessly, like he wasn’t sure how to explain, and was hoping that Michael might step in.

“Well…”

“Don’t look at me. You’re on your own on this one, bro,” Michael told him.

“Bro?” Rhodey repeated, squinted at Michael. “Sorry, who are you?”

“Michael the archangel,” Michael told him. “And you must be Rhodey. Gab – _Tony’s_ told me all about you.”

“Right,” said Rhodey uncertainly, but Pepper was saying, “Tony?” and looking at him with an expression that demanded an explanation.

“What just happened here?” Rhodey asked, and his gaze came to rest on Gabriel as well.

“Um,” said Gabriel, and for once he looked to be at a loss for words. “Okay, so this is… awkward.”

“Tony,” Rhodey said, clearly ordering him to spill. “Explain.”

“Right. Well.” Gabriel took a deep breath, and clapped his hands together. “Okay, bear with me for a second. Once upon a time, there was an archangel. His name was Gabriel.”

“Gabriel?” Pepper’s face twisted in confusion. “What…?”

“This is going somewhere, I promise,” Gabriel told her. “So, Gabriel the archangel. Anyway, one day he was stabbed to death by the rogue archangel Lucifer – you might have heard of him – and died.” Gabriel swallowed, his expression pained, like it hurt just to talk about it. “But Gabriel had died doing the right thing, so his Dad – God the Almighty – decided to give him a second chance. Gabriel was reborn as a human being, and his Grace – the part of him that made him an angel – was hidden in a tree.”

“Tony, where are you going with this?” asked Rhodey, who was listening with a frown.

“So one day,” Gabriel went on, ignoring the interruption,  “Gabriel accidentally came into contact with this tree, and the moment he did, he got all his powers back, and remembered that he was really an archangel. And then,” Gabriel swallowed a second time, “he was joined by his big sister, Michael, and the two of them went off to destroy the Mandarin and Aldrich Killian, rescued you two, the end.”

There was a pause.

“Hold on,” said Rhodey slowly, his expression sceptical, “are you saying…”

“That bright light you saw? That was me,” said Gabriel. “You’re lucky the optics in the suit burned out; otherwise you would have lost your vision. Humans aren’t meant to  gaze upon the divine and walk away unscathed.” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “Although the suit should be fine, now.”

Rhodey gave Gabriel a mistrustful look, but swung the faceplate down.

“Huh,” he said through the suit. “So it is.” He opened the faceplate up again. “So what you’re telling us is that you’re an archangel.”

“Yep.” Gabriel waited patiently, and only Michael could tell how nervous he was.

Pepper looked at Gabriel, then at Michael.

“Is he really…?” her voice trailed off. Michael nodded.

“He’s Gabriel.”

“He’s an archangel? Him?” Rhodey looked disbelieving.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Gabriel said. “Archangels aren’t exactly the paragons of virtue everyone thinks they are.”

“Especially not when they run away from home to play at being trickster gods,” said Michael.

Gabriel gave her a look.

“You’re not going to let that one go, are you?”

“I spent a thousand years wondering where you’d gone, and it turns out you were busy being a trickster god,” said Michael. “Excuse me if this is going to take some time for me to get used to.”

Gabriel looked like he was going to argue, then grimaced instead.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Hey, let’s go home. I could do with a drink and some candy.”

“And a bath,” said Pepper wearily. “A nice, long, relaxing one.”

“As long as you want,” Gabriel promised, and snapped his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's maybe one more chapter of this story left, and then I have an idea for another sequel.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The next morning Gabriel joined the rest of the Avengers for breakfast, to general delight and confusion.

“You were dead!” Clint accused.

“Not dead, just MIA,” said Gabriel, getting a cup of coffee from the coffee machine – out of habit, Michael supposed.

Steve immediately told Gabriel off for recklessly endangering himself. Gabriel listened intently to Steve’s angry little speech, then patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Steve, I’m fine,” he said calmly, and Steve deflated slightly. “But if it helps, I won’t need to do that again.”

“No more terrorists you feel the need to challenge?” Natasha asked, and Michael was pretty sure she and Gabriel were the only ones who could hear the relief in her voice.

“Well, no, I guess not, but actually I was talking about the fact that it turns out I’m an archangel,” said Gabriel, and took a swig of his coffee.

There was a short silence.

“Very funny, Tony,” said Steve.

In answer, Gabriel spread his wings, so that their shadows showed on the wall behind him.

“No joke,” Gabriel assured them all.

“Well, that’s… new,” said Bruce. “How long, exactly, have you been an archangel?”

“Since a few hours after Killian blew up my house,” said Gabriel, unfazed by Bruce’s tone.

“Killian?” Natasha repeated, her tone demanding further explanation.

Gabriel ended up telling them all the full story, from finding his Grace to destroying Killian and his minions.

“That weird light show on the news, that was _you?_ ” Clint asked.

“Uh-huh. In my true form, too,” Gabriel said.

“I bet SHIELD are falling over themselves trying to find out what happened,” Bruce murmured.

“Well, I’m not telling them,” Gabriel declared. “I don’t trust Fury or Hill, and let’s face it, they’ve got more integrity than the entire World Security Council put together.” He levelled a stare at Natasha in particular. “So keep it to yourselves.”

“Fury was unhappy enough about Michael, I can’t imagine he’s be pleased to find out you’re an angel too,” Natasha said, with a shrug. “I’ll save him the coronary.”

“Good.” Gabriel sipped at his coffee.

Just then Rhodey appeared in the kitchen doorway, in the pair of pyjamas he’d borrowed the night before. He’d checked in with command yesterday, told them that he’d been kidnapped but escaped, and asked permission to take some time off. By this point it was all over the news that the ‘Mandarin’ – aka Trevor Slattery – was in FBI custody, and Rhodey’s request had been granted.

“Tony,” he greeted Gabriel.

“Morning, honeybear,” Gabriel returned, and Michael wasn’t the only one stifling laughter. Rhodey bore the nickname with fortitude.

“How’s Pepper?” Rhodey asked, and Michael wasn’t the only one who looked to Gabriel, at that.

“Sleeping,” said Gabriel, a dark expression flitting over his face. “Yesterday took a lot out of her.”

“Being kidnapped will do that you,” Rhodey said. He gave Gabriel a long look. “Still can’t get past the idea that you’re an angel.”

“Would this help?” A finger-snap later there was a golden halo of light around Gabriel’s head, and he was wearing his best innocent expression.

“No,” Rhodey told him flatly, and Michael wasn’t the only one who laughed.

It took a little time for everyone to adjust to the fact that Gabriel was now an archangel like Michael, but they did so surprisingly quickly. It probably helped that Gabriel didn’t overtly change – he still drank way too much coffee, spent half his time in the workshop, and vacillated between understanding and obnoxious. The only real difference – at least around the others – was that Gabriel started eating candy all the time, and left candy hidden in strange places all over the penthouse in case he felt like a snack at some point.

Things seemed to go well between Gabriel and Pepper, despite the revelation that Gabriel was an angel. Michael watched them closely, and while there was sometimes awe in Pepper’s expression when she looked at her boyfriend (and thought he wasn’t watching), otherwise she treated him exactly the same. Michael had always liked Pepper, but seeing her treat Michael’s little brother well only solidified that feeling. As for Gabriel… well, he was still devoted to Pepper, archangel or not. Once upon a time Michael would have said that devotion was reserved for their Father and Heaven alone; these days, she just looked at Gabriel and Pepper and the love between them, and smiled wistfully.

It was only a few days until Christmas, and on Christmas morning the Avengers all met up in the penthouse, to exchange presents and drink the hot cocoa Michael had made up.

The Avengers all liked their presents from Michael, even Bruce, whose gift got a few laughs from the others. Pepper watched the gift exchange benevolently, while Gabriel handed out the presents he’d gotten everyone.

Michael waited until he was done to hand him the present she’d gotten him. Now that Gabriel was himself again the gift felt a little unnecessary, but Michael was sure that he’d appreciate it, all the same.

Sure enough, Gabriel unwrapped the framed photograph and stared at it, looking down at everyone’s smiling faces. He looked up, back at Michael.

“Thanks,” he told Michael sincerely. He cleared his throat, putting the framed photograph aside. “Uh, I wasn’t sure what to get you – especially now that I’m, you know, _me_ – so I figured my present to you could be us spending some time together. Getting to know each other again.”

“I’d like that,” Michael said honestly. On impulse she flung her arms around him in a hug, which Gabriel easily returned, after a second’s surprise.

“You know, I miss having everyone else around, but I’m _so_ glad you’re here,” Michael told him.

“Know what you mean,” said Gabriel. “Not that I’d actually want most of them here. They wouldn’t exactly appreciate the festive mood.” A funny expression crossed his face.

“What?” Michael asked. Gabriel hesitated.

“I was just thinking,” he murmured, “that, well, I kind of wish Castiel were here.”

“Castiel?” Michael echoed in astonishment.

“Yeah.” Gabriel shrugged, a shadow of remorse and regret visible on his face. “I mean, I didn’t know the kid that well, but I think he could have used a time like this. To just… relax and bask in the pleasant atmosphere. You know? I think he would have appreciated it.”

Michael thought of little Castiel, the falling, broken seraph, and then thought about how the Winchesters likely spent their Christmases, in run-down motel rooms and with little festive cheer around the place.

“Yeah,” she found herself saying, to her surprise. “I think he would.”

Gabriel shifted, a little uncomfortably.

“And… I would have liked to apologise, for what I put him through before the Winchesters won me over. The kid had a hard enough time as it was without me putting my oar in.”

The two of them stood there for a moment, in contemplation, before Clint called them back to the here and now.

“Hey, angels!” he called out. “You guys want breakfast or what?”

“Don’t eat all the food, Legolas!” Gabriel ordered, heading towards the kitchen with the others, and Michael smiled, and left them to it.

* * *

Michael knocked on the front door, and waited for someone to open it. She wasn’t surprised when it was opened by Eloise, who was breathing like she’d run to answer it.

“I hoped it was you!” Eloise exclaimed, pulling Michael into a hug. “Are you staying?”

“Yeah,” said Michael. “I am.” She followed Eloise into the house and shut it behind her, and walked into the living room.

“Darcy?” Her Mom and Dad looked astonished by her presence. Michael put her misgivings aside, and smiled.

“Hey,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

A moment later she was being wrapped in a hug by both her human parents. She hugged back.

* * *

Halfway across the country, stood a tree. It was leafy and green - despite the snowy winter weather - and huge, and there was a man standing beneath it. Drawn by some impulse he didn’t understand, he reached out to touch it.

A moment later, he was engulfed in brilliant white light, and reality shuddered.

“Well,” he said, an endless moment later. “That was unexpected.” His gaze rose to encompass the park in front of him, with people sitting on benches and children playing on the play equipment. A little girl stood not far away, staring at him in astonishment.

The archangel met her eyes, and smiled.


End file.
